Family Heritage
by SherlockXHolmes23
Summary: A strange man re-enters Neal's life, Neal mysteriously disappears, 100 grand was stolen from the Italian Mob... What else could go wrong? Rated T for violence and mild language. Please read A/N!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: First published white collar story! Just going to warn you, I have a lot on my plate right now, so updates may be slow. Or they might not be. Depends on what I have to do for school. Please Review! **

Lie to me, and tell me everything's okay.

Lie to me when I need it most, so that I'll survive what's coming next.

Even though I know that everything is not okay right now, if you tell me differently I'll believe you.

Because I want, no need, something stable in my life and you're the only one that can provide that for me.

I know we haven't had each other's backs recently, (Most of which has been my fault.) but just know that you're the only one that truly knows me, hell, you know me enough to know things about me that I wasn't even aware of.

I guess it can only be expected if you get partnered with the only man who has singlehandedly chased you around the world for 3 years. You've made these past couple of months tolerable for me, and I can't be any more thankful for it, but I want you to know that you're the only reason why I stay.

I know that this is a lot to take in, especially now, of all times, but I need you to know the truth, so you won't get caught up in all of the wrong things. You know pretty much everything about me, except for the things that I have purposely hidden from you, in a desperate attempt to save you from finding out. From finding out the cold dark truth. A truth that even Mozzie doesn't know about.

So when I lie to you, know that I mean no harm. I know that you'd do the same if you were in the same situation. I only mean to protect you from knowing something about myself that no one else should know about. It's one of the reasons why I have decided to do this. If it wasn't for me, none of us would be in this situation in the first place.

I'm not going to allow you to do this to yourself, to our partnership. I'm not going to let you get fired, just because of something that I did.

It's not worth it, you're not worth it. You deserve this job; you deserve everything except what's coming to you. And as your partner, it's my responsibility to protect you; even if that means that I have to leave.

I know you're going to be disappointed in me for doing this, but it's better for us this way. You get to keep your job and well… I'll figure something out.

Peter, I know you'll be tempted to look for me, but please, this is the only way it will work out. I've thought about every possible answer and this is the only one that doesn't include you getting fired or me going back to jail.

Thank you for everything; really, I appreciate everything you did for me but I just can't stand idle when there's something I can do to fix this.

Yours Truly,

N.C

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It had been over two weeks since Peter had found Neal's letter, hidden in a stack of crossword puzzles on his front porch. He had to read it over at least twice before fully comprehending what it meant. Neal was going to run! He cursed to himself softly, and ventured back inside to grab his phone, not caring that it was about 5:30 in the morning on a Sunday. His first call was, of course, to the Marshalls.

The only news that he was able to retrieve from the sleep-deprived Marshalls was that Tracking Anklet 9305 Alpha had mysteriously been switched off by an unknown hacker. Apparently the hacking had happened late last night and they were still trying to solve the mystery.

Peter had hung up first, frustration evident; at first he was puzzled about Neal's sudden disappearance and the letter but then it dawned on him. In Caffrey's letter he had said, "_I only mean to protect you from knowing something about myself that no one else should know about_." And, "_I'm not going to allow you to do this to yourself, to our partnership. I'm not going to let you get fired, just because of something that I did._" Neal wasn't running to get away; he was running to protect Peter from something… something dangerous.

Peter nearly dropped his cell phone in shock. He knew exactly what Neal was talking about. It all happened about 3 weeks ago, when they were investigating a simple embezzlement scam that managed to turn into something much more dark and nasty.

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**(3 weeks ago)**

_"I told you... I'm fine," he said in an annoyed tone. It wasn't like Neal to get annoyed at something as trivial as this. But here he was…annoyed for unknown reasons. _

_"What's got you so peeved today Neal? It's not like you to snap like that in front of a witness." Peter said curiously. It wasn't often the conman showed his true colors and once he did, it was hard for Peter to not treat him like an unyielding suspect. Peter was concerned, that's all. When Neal was not acting like Neal, something was up. And Peter wanted to know what so that if Neal acted rashly, he could think of some way to help him get past it. _

_"It's nothing I can't handle Peter. Just get back to watching the road..." Neal said as he turned to face the window. Peter bit back a sigh and began to watch the road. They were working on a relatively easy case but when they had approached a witness and began to talk with him, Neal had snapped and said something to him. Something that made the guy squirm and Neal making a witness scared was something that did not happen. Should not happen. Peter had given Caffrey a worried look but he had already walked away, hands in his pocket. He told the witness to expect a call back from the bureau and hurried after his consultant. Neal had been quiet all the way to the car and when Peter had tried to get him to open up about it, Neal had told him that he was fine and that today was just not his day. Peter had a hard time believing him but before he tried to ask again, Neal had deflected. Before Peter could even pull the car in park, Neal jumped out of the car and headed inside the apartment. _

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_Neal didn't outright lie to Peter when he told him it was something he could handle. Neal was sure he could handle what was coming but... he'd rather not be around Peter if it caused him to feel this way. His little outburst was a tell tale sign to Peter that something was up and he didn't want Peter to get involved in his problems, no matter how dangerous they were. Whenever that man was around Neal felt on edge to say the least. He was reminded of things that he would rather not revisit. So here Neal was, pacing the floor of his apartment, waiting for inevitable. Neal heard a soft knock on his door and he walked briskly towards it. Half hoping it was just June coming to give him grief about wearing a hole through her floors. But no, it was someone who he had hoped he would never see again in his life._

_He still had that charming smile on his face, a smile that Neal knew to be faker than the cheap amateurs that Peter was trying to catch for forgery. His gray eyes danced, as if he were truly glad to see him. _

_He stuck out his hand and said, "Nice to see you son. After all those years."_

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**(Present)**

Neal felt the cool autumn breeze whip against his face, and he turned his head against it. He had been keeping out of sight from everyone he knew, for fear of getting caught once again. Neal was really only running because he knew that if he stayed in contact with the Bureau, Peter would most likely get fired or killed.

Either way, Neal knew that he had to get away. Even if that meant ruining his relationship with the people he came to care for. He knew he could rely on them if he really needed it, but he also knew that they would turn him in instantly if he made contact with them.

He hadn't even made any contact with Mozzie yet, because he knew that was where Peter was going to check first. Sure, he had told him that he had to disappear for a while, but that was it. He didn't mention anything that would be incriminating.

He stood idly by the abandoned alley, waiting. Neal couldn't believe that he was doing business with the one man that got him into this mess. He sighed and a frown appeared on his face. _'But you have to do what you have to do.'_

He felt a vibration coming from his inside jacket pocket and he instantly went for it. It was a text from a blocked number. It said, "Greenacre Park, 217 East 51st Street, 4:10. RC"

Neal bit his lip, contemplating whether or not to show. Another text came soon afterwards. It read, "Don't be late; else I'll have to do something you might regret."

Neal looked down at the text with disgust, and he hoped that their business would be over quick. Neal knew that he would never be able to rejoin with Peter's side of the law, now that he cut his anklet and ran. He knew that if he got caught again, there would be no more special treatment from the Bureau. No more deals, no more undercover operations, no more Thursday dinners with Peter and Elizabeth.

But it was a necessary sacrifice if he wanted to keep Peter out of the line of fire. Neal knew that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and if that meant that he had to go through very dedicated F.B.I. Agents, he would do it.

Neal began his walk towards the park, unaware of the impending doom that would follow.

**Reviews make me write faster, and I don't mind constructive criticism, so please hit that button.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: Sorry for the delay. I meant to get this up on Saturday but I was swamped with Girl Scouts and such. Hope you enjoy it! **

*****Meant to do this earlier, sorry if you got the wrong message and thought this was chapter 3. Disclaimer: If I owned White Collar, Neal would be shirtless all the time, and there would be more Neal and Kate, Neal and Sara, and Neal and Alex makeout scenes. (Sadly, I will not get my wish.)  
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Neal made it to the park in a matter of minutes. He wanted to minimize his time out in the open so that he wouldn't be tracked down. The park was closed on the weekends so he had to pick the lock in order to get in. Roy was waiting for him inside the park and he waved warmly when he saw Neal.

"So glad you could make it. I was beginning to wonder if you'd show or not." His tone appeared welcoming but Neal knew better. He knew that no matter what tone Roy's voice had, it was always plotting. Plotting some nasty con that would rake in the money.

Neal gave him a cold look and said, "I got the F.B.I off your back Roy. Now do yourself a favor and leave town, before anything else happens."

"But I've only just got here Neal. Business is going great for me here; I think I might just stay for a while." He said with an amused look in his eyes and a mock pout on his lips. Roy enjoyed seeing Neal squirm; it reminded him of the days where Neal was just an innocent boy, waiting to be molded into a fine con artist.

Neal paled at the thought. He knew that Roy was only just playing with him, but sometimes Neal didn't know where that line of mental torture ended and where his seriousness began.

Before Neal could say anything back to Roy, shouts were heard at the park's entrance. Roy frowned and cursed softly. He fumbled with his jacket before producing a gun from the small of his back.

Neal looked at the gun in Roy's hands and back to Roy with his mouth agape. He said, "What are you doing? We don't need guns to escape from here, and we don't need them to fend off whoever those guys are."

Roy let out a short laugh, a mirthless sound that was harsh on Neal's ears. He had a hard look in his eyes and said, "What happened to the boy I rose? Clearly this pansy who refuses to pick up a gun to save his own skin isn't him."

The shouts came closer and sirens were heard in the background. If the police were coming, then that meant that Peter would know where Neal was…and who he was with. Neal cursed mentally. Peter didn't need to know of his relationship with Roy; no one did.

"I told you before, I quit dealing in guns. They're too dangerous." Neal said with a grimace on his face. He hated the days where he would come home to a house filled with guns and shady men, their pockets lined with money.

"You were serious about that? I thought you were kidding around; pulling one over on your old man." Roy said with a charming smile on his face. Obviously he didn't like the way Neal was acting towards him, but what can you expect when you drop off the face of the earth for 13 years? Especially after what had happened between the two.

The shouts and sirens were closer now, and their footsteps were heard running against the grass. Roy bit his bottom lip, contemplating wither or not to shoot at the men. He quickly put his gun away and began to run towards the back fence. He made a 'follow me' gesture with his hand and Neal knew to follow. They escaped from the park with ease, and dipped into the closest alleyway they could find.

They stayed there for a while, only moving when they heard sirens approaching. Neal sighed, and hoped that one day he would be able to bury everything that went wrong in his past.

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_Neal just stared at him, fire in his eyes. Why Roy even decided to show up here, of all places, he has no idea. And he doesn't want to find out. _

"_What do you want?" He said, with his hand still on the door. 'Haven't you ruined my life enough already?' Neal had received a note, cleverly hidden in yesterday morning's newspaper. He knew it was from Roy immediately, and it put him on edge to say the least. Everything after that just started to spiral downwards. It's one of the reasons why the apartment was such a mess right now. Neal had tried to calm down…but it just wouldn't work. Roy always knew just how to unnerve him to the point where Neal wouldn't be able to control himself. _

"_I can't stop by and say hello? I haven't seen you since… when was it?" His smile had turned sly, and his eyes became hard. It was clear to Neal that Roy had a problem with his line of work, now that he was considered a snitch by many of his fellow peers. Roy pushed his way into the apartment, and pretended to look around. Neal closed the door after and made his way to the table. _

"_I was 17…" he said, quietly fuming. Roy thinks he can just show up and expect everything to be fine, after all that happened all those years ago? Neal still hasn't quite gotten over it, no matter how much he tells himself that it has long since ended. _

"_Ah, you have grown up so much since then, my boy. How have things been going so far? You have made quite a name for yourself out here." He runs his hand over the bookcase, admiring the wood. _

"_Why do you care? You left me to die." The atmosphere grew tense, and a silence came between the two men. Neal knew for a fact that Roy would ruin everything that he had planned. From working out his sentence with Peter to finding more information about Kate and the music box._

"_It's the thought that counts." He said with a calculating smirk. He meant to come and visit earlier, but business had gotten in the way once more and it had delayed his visits by a couple of months. _

_Neal exhaled a short breath and said, "That's bull and you know it. Why are you here Roy?" _

_Roy turned to face him and looked him dead in the eyes. All of the tell tale signs of scheming was gone from his face and he even looked remotely regretful. Neal wondered what could have happened to make Roy feel this way. He rarely showed his true emotions and when he did, it wasn't pretty. _

"_I needed a place to lay low for a while, okay? A little scam of mine went south and I don't have any other safe houses nearby. Not yet at least." Was that embarrassment Neal heard in Roy's voice? 'His scam must have really gone bad if he's coming to me for help.' Neal mused. _

_Roy turned around once more and cursed softly. He ran a hand though his dark brown hair and sighed. In a sense, the scam went perfectly… Had it not been for that one slight problem, he wouldn't have to resort to this. Roy felt a vibration coming from his pants pocket and he frowned when he looked at it. _

_Neal smirked; he knew where this was going. Before Roy could even say anything, Neal knew. He knew that no matter how much he didn't want Roy to be here, Roy was here to stay. How long this time, depended on how good Neal's life was going. Judging by the fact that he was now having dinner every week with a federal agent, and that he actually enjoyed working with the Bureau, meant that Roy would be here to stay. _

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Special Agent Peter Burke sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop the headache that was coming. Neal had run in an attempt to save him from embezzlement scam that went south. But the one thing that Peter couldn't figure out for his life was why? He knew that Neal was loyal to a fault, but to risk jail time? It was something that Peter had difficulty wrapping his head around. He thought that Neal would have run because of something in the past that finally caught up to him, not to save the one man that could catch him.

It was troubling; having Neal as a partner. Sure, there were the moments of absolute trust between the two, but there were also moments of complete distrust. It was both of their faults, really, but they wouldn't admit that for the world. Somehow Neal would get himself into these situations where Peter would have to act fast in order to save him. This time felt like one of those situations, except Peter had no idea how to contact Neal, or even make sure if he was okay or not. Peter had tried to contact Mozzie to no avail. The Little Guy had disappeared into the mist, like a certain consultant.

He heard a knock on the door and soon entered Diana, who had a grim look on her face.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, fearing the worst.

"Caffrey was spotted breaking into Greenacre Park, with a man whose description matches the one we have on Daniel Clark." She let Peter connect the dots, not wanting to upset her boss further. She noticed the peculiar relationship between the two, but she chose not to judge. It was fun having Caffrey around, even when they had to go behind the Bureau's back to find information.

Peter rubbed a hand over his face and cursed softly. Daniel Clark was their main suspect in the embezzlement scam. Peter had a hunch that was who Neal was trying to protect him from but now he had proof to back it up.

"Boss…?" Diana asked questioningly. She didn't know what Peter knew, but she knew it wasn't good news. It never was when it concerned Neal.

"Neal isn't working with Clark, I'm sure of that fact." He bit his lip with unease. Peter didn't have a doubt that this was who Neal was trying to protect them from. But then why did he feel so uneasy? He now understood why Neal was acting strangely when they had first interviewed the witness, Derek Traversi. If Neal let it get to him like that, did that mean that something bigger was coming?

"What do you mean?" Diana asked, puzzled. Most of the time she was able to see where her Boss was leading the investigation, but now she was partially confused. If Caffrey wasn't working with their prime suspect, then what was he doing there? And why did he run?

"I think Neal's trying to protect us." Peter said determinedly. Most people in the Bureau thought that Neal had run for his own reasons and they thought that Peter was a fool for taking the ex con on in the first place. But Peter wouldn't have any of it. He knew Neal; he knew enough to know that Neal wouldn't just drop off the face of the earth for no reason.

He pulled out the letter that Neal had left and showed it to Diana. He was quiet for a few minutes and when it was clear that she was done reading it he said, "I got this the day Neal ran. Now I'm certain that he's trying to protect us from Clark."

Diana looked thoughtful for a minute before adding in, "That explains why he met with Clark. He wanted to make sure that he got out of town before anything else happened."

"Any word on that file?" Peter asked. He meant to review it earlier but things had gotten in the way. Diana frowned and stayed quiet. She produced what appeared to be a charred file in an evidence bag from behind her back and handed it to Peter.

"It was found by the furnace… The only prints on it were Caffrey's." She said, and observed her boss quietly. When it came to things like this, Peter tended to over-react. To her surprise though, Peter looked relatively calm.

He sighed. He should be mad, furious even. But he's not. Even though there's proof of Neal's acts right in front of his eyes, he's not angry. Peter's grown used to Neal's ways, even though they do land them both in hot water from time to time.

"Keep searching for Neal. Tell me if you get any updates." Peter said as Diana made her way back to her desk. His eyes automatically went towards Neal's now empty desk and he rubbed a hand over his face once more. '_Damn it Neal… Why do you do this to me?'_ Peter asked silently. Neal had a way of making everything of value flip upside down. It was getting harder and harder for Peter to get Neal out of trouble. If Neal didn't get his act together, and fast, their partnership would be over and Neal would be back in prison in no time.

**Author Note: I know this might have a somewhat awkward ending but I didn't want to delay it any longer and I could not think of a different way to end it without giving too much of the plot. Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note: So sorry for the delay. Life has a way of messing with my sense of time. and you know what I figured out a couple of weeks ago? There's a teacher at my school... her name is Elizabeth Burke. No lie! I made an instant connection to White Collar (being the nerd that i am). Except people call her Betty for some reason... Well anyways... enjoy the chapter! (Also, Thank you all to those who favorited, dropped a review, and added this to their alerts. It really makes my day when people like the things i write. :)  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar. If I did, Neal would be shirtless in every episode, and there would be more make-out scenes BETWEEN EVERY COUPLE IMAGINABLE! (Nah jk, just Neal + Alex, Neal + Sara, and Neal + Kate.)**

The sirens had stopped for about 10 minutes when Neal decided it was time to high tail it out of there. By this time Peter would have gotten a message about where Neal was… and that he was with Roy. Neal cursed mentally and glanced over to Roy. The man was chatting avidly on the phone, arguing it would seem.

"I don't have the money Aldo. You know I care too much about the family to do that." Roy said, unaware that Neal was listening. He was trying to salvage what was left of his scam. He continued, "Traversi, however… he's greedy. He would have taken the money without a second glance." Roy smirked; his mark was eating out of the palm of his hand. Roy had told the man that one of his loyal men had gotten greedy and had taken it when in reality Roy was setting the man up to be his fall guy. He had taken the money obviously, and wanted to get out clean.

Neal watched as Roy hung up the phone and made his way over to him. Neal knew it was a matter of time until the police came back with the Bureau in tow. He had to get out of there while he still could. He said, "You didn't tell me the cops were on your trail Roy. We could've gotten arrested for what you pulled." Neal wasn't all that worried about the police, but he made it seem that way because he knew that from now on Roy would tell him the details necessary for him to not get caught again.

The smirk on Roy's face turned into an elusive smile and there was a twinkle in his grey eyes. "We all need a little excitement in our lives Neal. It's what makes life fun." He said, not offering any more information about his scam, or how badly it was falling apart. Neal's gaze turned rigid and he put his hands in his pockets to hide the fists that had clenched in anger. Neal wanted Roy gone, and gone for good this time. He thought he had finally buried everything about his past, but it turns out that some things were not meant to be buried.

Not only did Roy's gaze soften in regard of Neal's behavior, his whole demeanor changed. When his attempt at humor had failed to destroy the tense air that came between them, he knew that Neal was genuinely upset. He crossed his arms and sighed. He said not long after, "It's clear to me that you need some time to think about our little agreement. We'll meet back up in a couple of hours. Does that seem good enough for you? I'll explain everything to you… even the things that you've tried so hard to forget."

"I'll be waiting." Neal said, and as soon as Roy turned the corner, he allowed for a small smile to appear on his face. He had successfully conned a conman, one that had taught him everything. It felt good to be back in the game, if only for a few days. He went in the opposite direction that Roy did, and made his way to one of his various safe houses he had collected in his time at New York. He made sure to avoid the main roads, the ones with security cameras on them, and after a few minutes of walking he noticed someone was following him. At first he wasn't sure, but when he rounded a corner and found that the man was still there, he knew. He pondered briefly as to who it could be, before disappearing down an empty alley. He knew it wasn't the Bureau; they would have used the "inconspicuous" Municipal van to track his movements.

Neal hid behind a corridor of sorts and waited until the man, thickly built and carrying a gun in his hand, walked into the alley. Neal took a deep breath and ran forward, attempting to tackle the man. It caught the man by surprise, but it didn't take him down. He stumbled a bit but that was it. The man turned, and Neal immediately recognized him. He was one of the key men in the Aldo crime syndicate. His name was Mauro D'Angelo or something along the lines of that.

The man brought his gun down on Neal's face hard, and Neal crumbled to the floor. Unable to get up, Neal groaned in pain and winced as the man reached down and picked him up. The man pushed Neal towards the surrounding building wall and said, "You think you can get away with stealing our money? Let me tell you something… No one gets away with it unscathed, not even a two-bit conman like yourself."

He jostled Neal once more before adding in, "Next time you see Clark, you tell him that he's not the only one with leverage. You got that?" Mauro dropped Neal to the ground and promptly kicked him in the stomach before snickering and leaving.

Neal winced and grabbed his stomach; there was no doubt that he had cracked a rib or two. His head pounded, and there was nothing that was stopping him from emptying the contents of his stomach right then and there. He just lay there, among the remnants of puke and trash, waiting for the aches to stop. He heard the rumbling of thunder and felt drops of rain hitting him in the face. And yet he made no move to escape it. Neal knew he shouldn't sleep with a concussion, but it was so tempting… and it was getting harder and harder to stay awake.

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_Roy had looked at the phone with contempt. It was Traversi… again. This was about the fifth time he had called, demanding the money he helped Roy embezzle from the Aldo family bakery. What Traversi didn't understand was that Roy had set him up for the fall. He answered the call, but only because he knew that if he didn't he would just keep calling. _

"_What do you want Traversi? I thought we agreed to never see each other again." Roy said with a hint of annoyance. He had chosen Traversi because even though he worked in the bakery with Aldo himself, he wasn't all that smart. Bribe him with additional cash or beers and you would be good to go. _

"_I know man… it's just that I've been getting some heat from Aldo about the cash…. And when I tried to get into our account the money was gone! You didn't transfer it or anything right? Man, I am so screwed…" Traversi's jittery and scared voice said. Roy cursed under his breath, careful to not let Traversi know. The man was a complete fool and yet he had managed to get into the encrypted account Roy had blocked him from. _

"_I don't have the money Traversi. Someone must have hacked the account." Roy said into the phone, annoyed at the caller obviously. He was trying to convince Traversi that the money had mysteriously disappeared when in truth; Roy had taken the money and tried to run with it. _

_Neal's eyes widened when he heard the name Traversi. He hadn't been paying attention to the embezzlement case he was working earlier with Peter; he was a bit pre-occupied with Roy coming into town, but he had heard the name Derek Traversi. And now he knew that Traversi didn't suffer from the scam like he told Peter and him, he was actually a part of the scam and that he had only involved the F.B.I to get back at Roy._

_Roy hung up the phone first, clearly frustrated at something. He said, "Look Neal, I got to go. I need some things to take care of and they can't wait. I'll come by tomorrow or something." Roy patted Neal on the shoulder as a means of a goodbye and left. As soon as he heard the door close downstairs however, he ran a hand through his hair and cursed. "Damn…" _

_Neal had to get Roy out of town before something bad happened. Because of Neal's ties with the Bureau, he knew that he was bound to have to destroy some sort of evidence for Roy. He didn't like it nor had he wanted to do it, but he knew he would have to. If it meant a quicker way to dispose of Roy Neal would do it._

_He closed the main doorway to his apartment and walked towards one of many hideaways he had made in his house. He opened it with ease and went straight for the bottom of the drawer. It mostly had treasures of past cons, small things that he could easily transport to and fro. He picked up a picture, an old one that he kept with him always. To this day Neal doesn't know why he keeps it, he just does. _

_It was a picture of him and Roy, in the old days where everything was peaceful… and not chaotic like it was now. He brushed over the picture with his fingers and smiled. In the picture was a fairly woodsy area, full of pine cones and pine needles. Roy and Neal were holding hunting guns, guns that would eventually mark the death of yet another loved one. Neal was about 16 or so when this picture was taken, and yet he somewhat looked the same as he did now. The curly locks of dark brown hair were the same, and the passionate blue eyes were joyful and innocent. Even Roy looked happy. They were camping out in the woods, hunting and eating the animals they killed. _

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><p><em>He just couldn't place Neal's erratic behavior. Sure, he had seen Neal in the worst days of his life…but it just wasn't the same. This was new, some foreign thing that, even after 4 years of learning about the man, he couldn't understand. The other thing that he had never understood about Neal was the fact that he had refused to believe that Kate didn't love him. It was obvious to everyone but him, and Peter wondered if the man ever stopped thinking about the one that got away. That, and his ability with guns. Somehow seeing his partner holding a gun seemed unnatural to him. Scary even.<em>

_Peter was about halfway towards the office when he decided that whatever was bothering Neal was important enough to evade paperwork, even for a little bit. He knew that he wouldn't be able to work with his mind focusing on what Neal had done today anyways, so why bother?_

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><p><em>Neal was pulled out of his reverie when he heard a slight knocking on the door. He put the photo down and opened the door to see Peter standing there, a somewhat awkward expression on his face. <em>

"_Peter, I didn't expect you to come by… What's up?" Neal said, trying to hide how exposed he felt. Peter looked a little lost, as if he was expecting something entirely different to come from his consultant. Neal let Peter in as the silence accumulated. _

"_I just wanted to see how you were feeling, after you're little outburst earlier. Thought we could talk about it if you want to." Peter said finally, breaking the silence. He expected Neal's apartment to be in shambles, and at least an empty wine glass, but no such thing. If anything Neal was looking more happy then anything. Something was up, he could tell. _

_Neal was more or less surprised at Peter's visit. He knew it was coming of course, but that didn't stop him from hoping Peter for once would ignore his gut and not show up unannounced. "Oh that?" Neal said with a charming conman smile, "It's nothing. I was just having a crappy morning and I let it get to me. You don't have to worry about me Peter, I'm fine." _

_Peter knew that once Neal's patented conman smile came out that everything was not okay and that he was not fine but he knew not to ask. He knew that no matter how many times he asked, Neal would always say that he was okay and that was all Peter was going to get out of the man. _

_Peter sighed, knowing when defeat was imminent. "Want to go over some case files?" Peter said, producing a newly made file labeled Derek Traversi from behind his back. A flash of an unknown emotion went through Neal's eyes before Neal nodded and went to the kitchenette to grab some wine and beer. _

_He sat the file down and saw a face down photo on the table. He picked it up, curious as to what Neal could be hiding. It was a relatively old picture, one from Neal's childhood he assumed. Neal was with a man with the same curly locks as his, only the hair coloring looked lighter in the older man. Their eyes were both blue, except Neal's looked more blue and the man's looked more gray then blue. They were both holding hunting rifles, something that puzzled Peter to no end. 'So much for hating guns…' Peter mused. _

_Peter glanced over at Neal, who was still fishing through his small fridge for some beer. Peter called out to him and asked, "Have you been lying to me Neal?" There was no doubt in his mind that the man in the picture was Neal's father. Neal's father, who died when he was two and who was a dirty cop. _

_Neal looked up from his search, puzzled. "No, why do you ask?" He wondered what it was that made Peter ask him that, he didn't do anything wrong. At least that he knew of. He shut the fridge, and walked over to Peter empty handed. Peter showed the picture he had been staring at and Neal's face fell. He hadn't thought to put the picture back in its hideaway when Peter knocked. He quickly reined in his emotions and waited for the inevitable. _

"_What is this Neal? You told me that your father died when you were two. Was all that about your past a lie?" When Peter found the picture he was curious, but now, after learning who it was with Neal, he was frustrated. He hated being played by Neal, even if it was involuntary. It made him wonder just how much Neal was leaving out. How much he didn't know about his past. _

"_It's not what you think Peter. I've never lied to you." Neal didn't like lying to Peter, not after what they've been through together. But there were some things that he needed to lie about, in order to keep the Caffrey façade from failing._

"_Oh really? Like I believe that." Peter scoffed. He wanted to help Neal, he really did. But the only thing that was stopping him from helping him was the lying. He knew that Neal was a liar and a conman but he still took him on as a partner. _

"_It's nothing like that. We're not even related. My mom shipped me off to live with a friend of a relative's after things got too hard on her." Neal said, telling Peter the truth. Roy and him weren't really father and son; they just seemed like it. In those days, Neal and Roy grew close… closer than Neal would like to admit. Most people believed that the two were family, even Neal liked to think of his as a father… until everything began to spiral downwards. _

_Peter let the information sink in before reaching over to the picture and handed it back to Neal. He sat back in his seat and said, "I'm sorry for yelling at you Neal, I should have just let you explain." _

_Neal smiled apologetically and said, "It's no big deal, it happened a long time ago." He went back towards the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers for Peter. 'If it happened a long time ago, then why do I keep thinking about her?' Neal thought darkly before returning to the table._

"_Let's start throwing ideas around about the case… What would you do if you were embezzling money from a bakery?" Peter asked as he opened the file and a beer._

"_Well for one thing, I would never embezzle money from a bakery. It's too plain, too simple of a con. And you're too likely to get caught." Neal said as he sipped from his wine, the nightmare of the past forgotten for now._

WCWCWCWCWCWC

The rain prevented Neal from passing out, but the rain had numbed his entire body, until he could no longer feel the pain that had settled in his ribcage. He nodded off every few minutes or so, only to wake up alone. Neal knew that he had to get up sooner or later, and decided to withstand the pain. He managed to get to his feet and almost fell. He held onto a dumpster for support as his vision swam. He shut his eyes as the nausea passed, and he heard footsteps stepping in a puddle nearby. He opened his eyes to find that the rain had finally stopped and that a man was standing at the entrance of the alleyway, staring at him.

It was Roy.

**DUNDUNDUN! what a twist, huh. Roy is not really Neal's dad. I had you fooled didn't I? Haha... For more information you're going to ahve to wait until the next chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Notes: Please be aware that I'm not from New York, in fact I've only been to the Big Apple once, and that was last weekend. So just be aware of that fact when I totally get locations wrong! (Also, don't forget to review; I know you guys are reading, I just want to know what's on your minds. If you liked it… if you didn't. Or you can just say something completely irrelevant. I don't mind.) **Here's the rest of the chapter, hope you enjoy it. Also, in the flashbacks, (especially in the later ones… with Neal's childhood), his name is Nick Everett.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar. If I did, Neal would be shirtless in every episode, and there would be more make-out scenes BETWEEN EVERY COUPLE IMAGINABLE! (Nah jk, just Neal + Alex, Neal + Sara, and Neal + Kate.)**

As soon as Roy left Neal alone in the alley, he knew something was wrong. It was nagging at him for hours before he finally decided to search for him. He checked the surrounding alleyways, knowing that Neal would stay off the main roads. He narrowly missed the downpour that had occurred and hoped that Neal was somewhere safe. He called Neal's burner phone and heard a soft ringing coming from a nearby alley. He stepped in a small puddle and saw Neal, leaning up against a wall, his eyes shut tight. He was cradling his stomach with his arm, as if it was causing him pain. His eyes opened suddenly, and their gaze showed nothing but pain and annoyance.

Roy walked briskly towards him and put a hand on Neal's shoulder. "What happened to you Neal?" Roy asked. He brushed a hand over the back of Neal's head and frowned when Neal winced. 'Definitely a concussion.' Roy thought to himself.

"What happened?" Neal said bitterly. "You come back into my life after 13 years, you make me run from people that actually care about me, and you ask me 'what happened?' You stole from the mob Roy, that's what happened. Nothing good can come out of that." It was the truth. Steal from a museum; you get the feds after you. Steal from the mob however, can get you and everyone around you killed. Neal knew that Roy was cocky, but to steal from a crime syndicate? That was just plain stupid.

Roy was silent for a couple of minutes, letting Neal's words sink in. He didn't think of the consequences that would come out of stealing from the mob. Sure, he knew that he would have to hide out for a while afterwards, but he didn't know that it would end this badly. And he didn't know that they would come after Neal. Roy's eyes narrowed at the thought of Feds taking care of Neal. The only thing Feds wanted was a conviction; they would never purposely take care of a criminal. Not even one that was working for them. Roy took a step back from Neal, knowing Neal well enough to give him some space.

"I never made you run from them Neal. That was your decision, not mine. And besides, you have people who care for you here; you don't need those Feds." Roy said with an acidic tone. He came to resent the Suits for everything that they had done to Neal. From pursuing him for 3 years to using Kate as bait to catch him and forcing him to work for them to shorten his sentence. It was maddening to think that Neal would actually think of them as friends. After all the grief that they put him through, and he still calls them friends?

"Those Feds happen to be some of the people that I trust with my life Roy. If you can't accept that, then maybe you should leave." Neal knew that most criminal's considered him a snitch now that he worked for the other side of the law, but he never thought that he would have to deal with it until his sentence was over. He doubted the mob knew who he was anyways, Neal was always careful to never involve the mob with a job unless he was forced into it, or the prize was too great.

Roy looked uneasy, as if he didn't want to leave Neal alone again. But he knew what his presence was doing to Neal and he knew that Neal needed some time to think about things before they reunited. He said, "Maybe I will." and turned to leave. The sun was finally out, and it was shining, but who knows when it'll stop shining and realize that some things are meant to be kept in the dark?

Roy turned his head and took one final look at Neal. He was still leaning up against the wall, and he seemed to fighting off a growing nausea. "Just promise me that you'll stay out of trouble? I know there's not much you can do, especially in your position, but just try." And with that, Roy left. He hated leaving Neal behind, again, but he knew it was the right thing to do. If he stayed, things would change. And they would change badly. They would no doubt have an argument which would lead to things slipping out that weren't meant to be spoken.

Neal was glad that Roy had started to listen to him. He had to make it clear that he wasn't a child anymore, and that he could do well enough on his own. And he could. He had done it for about 13 years before Roy showed his face and made everything stumble backwards. Arguing had kept Neal's mind off of the pain, so when Roy left he felt an enormous buildup of pain. His head pounded and his ribs felt like they were on fire. All Neal wanted to do was to pass out, but he knew that he had to move on.

Neal was about a mile from the alley when he couldn't control it anymore. He stumbled and fell to the floor with a thud. Neal groaned as he tried to get up, but he just couldn't. The pounding in his head had grown and he shut his eyes against the pain. He heard thunder in the distance, a sign of yet another storm. Neal wasn't sure if he would be able to make it through this one. He sighed, he knew that his defeat was imminent. In only a few minutes the darkness came, and Neal went graciously into it.

WCWCWCWCWCWC

It was raining, and it was raining hard. The pitter-patter of rain was splashing against the windows of Peter's darkened office. It was clear to Hughes and everyone else where the Special Agent was. Even though they were in the midst of a storm, Peter was out searching for his missing consultant and partner, Neal Caffrey. He was canvassing the scene where Neal was seen last. Hughes knew that Burke was the only one who could understand the ex con's movements and his style of thinking. It was one of the main reasons why Hughes went forward with the deal in the first place. Caffrey was an asset to the Bureau and without him…well the office was much quieter than Hughes would like to admit.

* * *

><p>Peter cursed as the rain poured down on him. He was slightly aware of the series of storms that were coming, but in the haste of getting more information about Neal, he had forgotten to pack an umbrella. He was drenched in a matter of minutes. He wasn't too far from Greenacre Park, where Neal was seen last with their prime suspect in an embezzlement case they were working on. Peter had no idea what Neal was doing with their suspect; Neal said it himself, <em>"I would never embezzle money from a bakery. It's too plain." <em>

Setting the Why aside, Peter began to ponder how Neal managed to escape the park with the NYPD on his trail. He knew that Neal was quick on his feet but he doubted that Neal knew the escape route. For Neal to know the route he would have searched the area first, made sure there were no drawbacks. For him to be able to do that, he would have broken his radius. Peter had checked, Neal was nowhere near the park in the few weeks before he ran.

The only thing Peter could think of was that Neal was planning a rendezvous with their suspect to split the money, but it just seemed wrong. Neal didn't need the money, and if he did, Peter was sure that Neal would opt for a painting rather than split the cash from an embezzlement scam. Upon seeing a flash of lightning, Peter ran for cover. Literally. He tripped over something and fell to the ground in the middle of a giant puddle. He cursed and stood up, not realizing what he had tripped over. He took a look back and was shocked to see Neal, lying on the ground unconscious.

Peter checked Neal's pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief when he found one. Neal's breath was shallow and it looked like he was having some difficulty breathing but other than that Peter could see no injuries. He was tempted to call it in, but something stopped him from calling the cavalry. Peter grabbed Neal by the arm, and led him up. Peter stumbled with the burden of the extra weight, but he managed to make it to his car without falling into any puddles. He placed Neal in the back of his car, taking note of any injuries before strapping him in. The car ride was silent, and Peter periodically looked back at his partner during red lights to see if anything had changed. Neal stayed unconscious during the entire ride and it looked as if he was dreaming… But Peter wasn't sure if it was a dream or a nightmare.

WCWCWCWCWCWC

**(18 Years Ago)**

_Neal stepped out of the train with a smile on his face. He only had the clothes on his back and a small backpack, which was filled with small necessities such as clothing, and a small sketchpad waiting to be filled with drawings. It was a gift from his mother, who had given it to him as a gift one day. Upon thinking of his mother Neal frowned. He had recently found out that his father wasn't a hero… he was a dirty cop, and his mom refused to tell him the truth. He didn't know what was worse, his mother not telling him, or the fact that he was told by a drunken goon who recognized him._

_Thinking past this, Neal began walking away from the station. After hearing the truth from his mother's own mouth, Neal lost it. He didn't know who he could trust anymore. He had always came to his mother for advice, advice for an incomplete drawing needing detail to asking how he should get to know Britney Nicole in 2__nd__ grade. But once he knew for sure that she had lied to him, about something important like information about his father, he didn't know if she had been lying about anything else. Was he really who he thought he was, or was everything just a lie made up by his mother?_

_It soon became too much for Neal to handle, and he did something that would change his life drastically. He ran away. He ran away from his home town, in a desperate attempt to search for something new. Something permanent. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew that he had to get away somehow. Neal got on the next train outbound, not caring that he would probably be living out in the streets no matter where he got off. _

_The stop that Neal had gotten off was the last one, it had a quaint feel to it, and he could see a river not far from the station. He could hear the rush of traffic not far above the station, where an overpass lies. Neal was farther from the station now, reaching the end of the overpass and the beginning of the sidewalk. He felt the cool breeze of the fall, and glanced at the surrounding apple trees, wondering if any of them were ripe yet. _

_Neal had a sinking feeling he was being watched and when he turned around he saw a man who appeared to be in his late 30's with dark brown wavy hair. He looked him over with a wary eye, but said nothing to the man. He knew he seemed a little too young to be traveling alone, and that was probably why the man was staring at him, but Neal knew enough to get around. _

_When Roy approached Neal, he was only 12 years old. He was barely a teenager, and he knew how to get out of things. Roy felt like he had an obligation to teach Neal everything he knew about conning someone out of their life savings. It was one of the reasons why he came up to him and said, "Are you new around here?" _

_After hearing the words come from the stranger's mouth, Neal grinned sheepishly. He said, "Is it that obvious?" Neal had no idea that he stuck out like a sore thumb, he thought he was pretty good at blending into crowds. The man looked like someone he could trust, someone that would be able to help him find the things in life he needed. Like a father figure._

_At first the boy looked familiar to him, but Roy couldn't place him. After hearing the boy's voice, Roy knew. He knew who the boy was, and a plan formed instantly in his mind. He smiled and said, "I'm Roy, let me show you around." His plan was perfect… he would take the boy under his wing, and make him the best con man in the world. Roy would be the brains behind the operations, while Neal would be the one in the action._

"_I'm Nick, Nick Everett." Neal smiled and followed Roy deeper into the town. Roy's face held a small smile all the while, thinking of how his dirty cop partner in crime's son was going to be taught the tricks of the trade. The conning trade, that is._

WCWCWCWCWCWC

By the time Peter had arrived home, the storm had come and gone, and the sun was shining once again. Elle was gone in San Francisco for an expensive client and had left Satchmo and Peter behind to take care of the house. Satchmo met Peter at the door, and Peter carefully maneuvered around the excited dog to the couch, where he placed Neal gently. Peter put down his now wet briefcase that was filled with files that needed his signature and headed upstairs to change into drier clothing.

A few minutes later, Neal began to stir. He remembered being cold, really cold. Cold to the point of hypothermia, but now the only thing he could feel was the pain in his head and the warmth of a dog's breath on his face. He opened his eyes, and saw Satchmo's dark eyes staring back, clearly excited to see him. Neal was shocked and delved deeper into the couch, unaware of the pain that would come from it. He was reminded of his bruised ribs and tried not to jostle them too much.

He looked around, and realized where he was. He was at Peter's house… _'Peter must have found me out in the alley and brought me here.'_ Neal frowned. He ran because he wanted Peter to be safe. Now that he was here, in Peter's house, nothing was going to stop Roy from ruining the carefully built web of lies that surrounded Neal's past. There was a reason why he never told anyone about his past.

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and Neal sat up quickly. He hissed in pain, but he continued to stand. He needed to get out of Peter's house while he still could. Before he could make it to the door however, Peter had caught up to him. He put a hand on Neal's shoulder and turned him around. "We have to talk Neal. No escaping until you explain to me what the hell is going on." He said, and lead Neal back the couch.

He sat down with a grimace, trying to hide the pain he was feeling. "Peter, it's a long story, and all I really want to do is sleep." Neal said, trying to use the last of his energy to deflect Peter's constant questioning.

Peter gave him a disbelieving look and said, "You can sleep when you're dead. Now tell me what's going on before it gets out of hand." Peter wanted to get ahead of this before it unraveled in their faces. He could get fired for doing this for Neal, but he had to know. He had to know what Neal was protecting him from, and why.

"It already is Peter. The only way I can stop it, is if I disappear forever." Neal knew that there was no stopping the Aldo family, especially when their money was involved. God only knows why Roy stole from them in the first place.

"I can't let you do that Neal. Not when you already have a life here." Peter said, determined to get Neal to talk. This particular tactic had worked before, at the hangar, but with different results. Peter hoped that this wouldn't lead to the death of someone he knew.

Neal sighed. He wanted to tell Peter the truth about everything, he really did. But there was too much to be told and a part of him liked how Peter didn't know everything about him. He liked the mystery it presented to those at the Bureau. Neal didn't want Peter to know about the things he had endured as a kid.

"Just tell me what's going on Neal. That way I can stop this before we both end up in jail." Hughes had specifically told Peter to bring Neal in as soon as he was found. Peter, for obvious reasons, decided against it and now if he was caught with Neal, they would most likely go to jail together.

"Fine."

"Why were you meeting with Clark at the park? Were you planning on double crossing him with the money?" Neal almost laughed at the thought. Him, working with Roy? Sure, they planned heists together when he was younger, but Neal had long since quit trying to impress him.

"No, I would never." He paused, briefly pondering how much he should reveal to Peter. "He needed me to get the Bureau off his back, and I knew that if I didn't, there would be major consequences."

"Damn. He gets you to ditch all of the evidence of the case, and it can only lead back to you. Whoever this guy is, he's good." Peter had no idea what sort of relationship Clark and Neal had, but he knew it didn't end well. And if Clark was able to kick up a storm that would even make Neal Caffrey head for the hills… Peter didn't even want to think about it.

Neal hesitated before giving up this piece of information that he knew would be crucial to the case. He knew that Peter would figure out who Roy was, and how Neal knew him sooner or later, and Neal knew it would be better for Peter to learn it from Neal than from Roy himself. "Peter… Daniel Clark is an alias. I don't know how long it's been in use, but I know for a fact that it isn't his real name."

"Who is he, and how do you know him?" Peter had a sinking feeling in his gut, one that was telling him that no good news would come from his consultant's mouth. He chose not to believe in it, but it was still there.

"His real name is Roy Croft, and I know him because I spent 5 years of my life under his wing, as he tried to teach me how to con people."

**Author's Notes: Hope you all had an amazing weekend, i know i did. I probably won't update an incomplete chapter soon, I only did it because I was going away. (hopefully) there are no more incomplete ones that break off in awkward endings. Please Review! it makes me :DDDDD smile.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Notes: So sorry for the delay! I meant to post it over the weekend but I was feeling very unproductive and was unfortunately procrastinating. Also please tell me if I butchered the flashback completely; I have a sinking feeling that I did. Warning: This chapter does include child abuse so please skip this chapter if it isn't your thing. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own white collar, or any of its characters, (Except for Roy and Emmy… I own them.) So please don't sue me.**

"His real name is Roy Croft, and I know him because I spent 5 years of my life under his wing, as he tried to teach me how to con people." Neal said, and tried not to stare at Peter's disbelieving face.

After hearing Neal's confession about his relationship with their prime suspect, Peter didn't know what to think. He knew that there were some things that he would never know about Neal, but he didn't expect this. Not now at least. He thought it would be over wine and beer, when they weren't on the clock. This news certainly complicated things for their case, and their relationship. He wondered about the suspect's relationship with Neal and how it came to be this estranged. Whatever the reason, Peter hoped it would never happen to them.

Peter was speechless. Now he knew what was up with Neal all those weeks ago. It must have been Roy, popping up from who knows where. "What happened?" Peter asked, curiosity winning out. He knew that something happened, something bad. Neal had this indifferent look in his eyes, as if he was remembering the past, and how it didn't work out. Either that or he was debating whether or not to tell Peter the truth.

Before Neal could answer him, the phone rang. It seemed louder than usual, but maybe it was just because the air was tense between them. Peter answered it and his face fell when he heard the news. Neal kept quiet, not knowing if it was another Agent on the line. He didn't want Peter to get into trouble just because he was at his house.

"Damn… Keep me updated, I'll be in soon." Peter said, frowning. Their witness was just found dead, apparently by a hit and run accident over on Madison Street. Diana had delivered the news, she had just heard from one of her contacts at NYPD. Peter almost forgot that Neal was over his house, but he was reminded when he asked, "What's up?" with a concerned expression.

"Our witness, Derek Traversi, got killed in a hit and run accident. He was dead upon impact." When Neal heard the news, he paled. He instantly thought of Roy, and mused briefly about the killer that was lurking inside him. "… Right?" Neal snapped back to reality, and Peter gave him a placating look.

"Is there something you're not telling me Neal?" Peter said, somewhat disappointed. He wished for days where Neal would tell him his plans before acting upon them. The kid had no impulse control at all. Sometimes, the ability to think on your feet was a good thing when you were conning someone, but it was not such a good attribute when going under cover with a dangerous criminal.

Neal sighed and said, "You might want to take a second look at the bakery. It's a front for the Aldo crime syndicate." He didn't want Peter to get any more involved then he already was, but it had to come out sooner or later. And Neal knew that if the mob got a hold of him and if Peter didn't know, he would be screwed and would most likely be killed slowly. He shivered at the thought.

"What are you talking about?" Peter was confused. Sure, he had heard of the syndicate, it was a frequent water cooler topic at the Violent Crimes Unit and Organized Crime Unit. He didn't know that much about it, but he knew they were bad. If you thought of the worst things people could do for torture, the Aldo family did worse. They wrote the book on how to torture someone. It was one of the many reasons why Peter decided to do White Collar instead of any of the others.

"After my meeting with Roy, I was… _confronted, _by one of their muscle men. They wanted their money back, and they assumed I had it." Neal wanted to leave out the part about his fight with Mauro. He wasn't one for violence, and he didn't particularly enjoy talking about it either. Whether it happened to him or not.

"Confronted? Neal, you were beat up. Why didn't you tell me?" Peter now only noticed how Neal was holding his stomach gingerly, and how he was holding back pain that was most likely hidden in his head. He hated this part of Neal the most. Not necessarily hated, but Peter held a deep dislike of it. Neal would say that he was fine, even if he was about to die. He didn't want to be treated as a victim, even if it was for a few minutes.

"I can handle myself Peter. It's nothing I can't fix on my own." It was the truth. Neal had functioned on worse conditions that Peter didn't even know about. And he made sure that any Fed never knew about it. It was a time in his life that he kept to himself.

"I need to go back to work, you stay here and rest. You better be here when I get back… We still have a lot to talk about Neal." Peter said as he grabbed his somewhat dry suit jacket. He grabbed an umbrella on his way out and locked the door. As soon as he was gone, Neal's façade dropped. He didn't say a word to Peter about his injuries, and he didn't plan on it. He hissed in pain when he lifted up his shirt, finally taking notice of the deep purple bruises that were beginning to form. Neal tried to get into a more comfortable position without jostling his ribs too much and tried to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Peter made it to the office in about 20 minutes, after stopping by the morgue to see the body of Derek Traversi, the man who told them about the embezzlement in his bakery. What he forgot to mention is that the bakery was a front for one of the most dangerous crime syndicates in New York, and that he helped the bakery by laundering some of the money through his own offshore accounts.<p>

The first thing he did when he got into his office was search up Roy Croft in the F.B.I database. The search didn't take long; the first thing that pulled up was a wanted picture. It was a somewhat old picture from what he could gather, and Peter frowned when he saw it. It was the same picture that Neal was looking at when Peter confronted him about his wayward feelings.

The wanted poster was issued by Boston PD, it said that he was wanted for questioning about the disappearance of a recently known dirty cop, and there was a warning about how he was armed and dangerous. Peter sighed and ran a hand over his face. His gut was telling him that this was the reason of Neal's estranged relationship with his mentor of five years. Roy was involved, in one way or another, with Neal's father.

'_Disappearance?' _Peter read through the poster once more and was disappointed when he saw it. Neal had told him that his father was dead, has been since he was two years old. _'Neal lied to me…'_ Peter cursed softly. He hated being duped like this, especially about something as important as this. He knew that Neal never meant to lie to him, but it didn't sting any less knowing that he didn't mean it.

He heard a soft knock on his door and he quickly minimized the window he had running. "Come in." He said. Hughes entered his office with a mildly concerned look on his face. Peter knew that no good news could come out of this meeting.

"Did you find any leads on Caffrey?" Hughes asked. He knew that his best agent was wasting his time out looking for Caffrey, once the man decided to disappear; he was gone with the wind. But Hughes also knew that Peter would never stop searching for Caffrey, even if Caffrey had personally told them that he was never coming back. Burke was convinced that Neal could do some good here, on this side of the law. Hughes didn't doubt that, but he had a feeling deep in the back of his mind, that one day temptation would be too great and Neal would double cross them. Just like he did now.

Peter shook his head and said, "The only thing I got was a wet suit. Neal probably went underground when NYPD chased him out of the park." He hated lying to his boss and he knew that he could get fired for doing so, but he had to. No matter what, Peter would always have Neal's back. Even if it could potentially harm his career.

"Peter, I know you've grown close to him, I know that he's a good asset… but he's going back to prison when you find him. There won't be any deals to get him out either; OPR is making sure of that." Hughes said with a straight face. He wanted to remind Peter of the rules, rules that were made just for this situation. If Peter caught Neal, then he was back in jail for good, no more deals, no more special treatment.

Peter struggled to keep a neutral face. He wanted to shout at Hughes, to say that Neal did nothing wrong, he only ran to protect them, but he knew that Hughes would never believe him. Nor would any of the other dedicated Agents. They only knew Neal as a suave conman, they didn't know him like Peter did. And even Peter didn't know him that well. Sure, he knew how he moved, how he worked, but he knew nothing of his criminal life, or his past. Neal made sure that he didn't know.

"I understand completely Sir."

"How's Elizabeth?" Hughes asked, changing the subject. He and Burke were not only Agent and Superior; they held a certain relationship that other agents were envious of. Hughes considered him his best agent out of the entire White Collar Division, and Peter knew that he could get away with things that would normally get an agent suspended. Caffrey was a new addition to the team, Hughes knew that some agents would not be able to trust him, and would whisper about him when he wasn't looking, but that didn't stop Caffrey from doing his job. He added a new side of flavor the Bureau needed.

Peter shrugged and said, "She's in San Francisco, with a new client. It's just me and Satchmo at the house. Speaking of which, I better get home to feed him. You don't mind me ducking out early, right?" Was he lying to his boss? Not really. Elle was out of town, and Satchmo really did need to be fed, but the reason for his leaving was different. He wanted to check up on Neal, to see if he was well enough to be brought in. Peter knew that the longer Neal stayed at his house, the more likely he was going to be seen and Peter would be charged with hiding a fugitive in his house.

"Not at all."

* * *

><p>Neal was awakened from his light slumber when he heard a familiar scratching on the door. He knew that scratching noise… it was the sound that comes from someone picking the lock on a door. He shot up, and then winced in pain. He was reminded of the aching in his ribs, and the less noticeable pounding in his head. The door opened and he saw Mauro D'Angelo, packing more heat than necessary.<p>

Neal began to run towards the back door but before he could make it, he heard a shot ring out. It only just grazed his leg, but it was enough to make him slip. Mauro made it over to him before Neal could escape and he plunged a syringe into Neal's arm. Neal instantly felt dizzy, and his vision began to blur. He felt himself get hefted onto Mauro's shoulders and he shut his eyes against the nausea that was coming. He heard the familiar click of handcuffs and he felt himself get placed harshly in the trunk of an awaiting car. The trunk slammed shut, and Neal heard the engine start.

* * *

><p>Peter came home to find that his door had been forced open, and the living room had been torn to pieces. It looked like someone was looking for something, but whatever it was they didn't find it. Peter grabbed his gun from out of his holster and went in search of Neal. He wasn't on the couch like he should have been. The only thing that was on the couch was a burner phone that he assumed fell out of Neal's pocket. The farther Peter went into the house, the more worried he became. He told Neal that there would be no more escaping, no more lies, but did he listen? No, he just had to do it his own way.<p>

When Peter got closer to the back door he noticed something. Something that made him worry beyond belief. It was small, but it was enough to cause worry. There was 4 or 5 blood drops on the wood flooring. His gut told him it was Neal's. He had been taken… by whom? Peter had no idea. Peter grabbed his phone, and called the one person he could rely on in a time like this.

* * *

><p>He was shrouded in darkness, and the pounding in his head had grown enormously. He heard the screeches and frequent stops the car made, but nobody came to relieve him of the darkness. His eyes grew accustom to the dark, but still his vision swam. Neal struggled with the cuffs, wishing that he had a spare paperclip with him. The trunk he was held captive in was actually quite roomy; Neal thought it might have been a mini-van or something.<p>

He felt around with his hands, searching for something that would help him escape. But the only things he found were what seemed to be a bag of flattened cardboard boxes that were tucked into the corner. He heard the honking of several horns before he heard the tires squeal with denial. Neal hit his head against the corner of the trunk, and he groaned in pain.

"_Are you alright?"_ A soft voice asked. Neal's eyes widened when he heard it. The owner of the voice… she was dead. There was no way she could be here, after all that time. Neal had seen her die. He figures that he must be hallucinating, he has to be. He opens his eyes and is shocked to see her. She looks the same as back then, except for a few differences. She looks almost ghost-like with her pale skin and her amazingly blue green eyes. She still has a kind, gentler look in her eyes, a look that Neal came to admire.

Neal's eyelids began to droop, it was clear that his body had enough of the pain. He welcomed the darkness with open arms and fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p><strong>(17 years ago)<strong>

_Neal had been living with Roy for about a year when he first met her. They had been in a relatively small town, one that Neal liked. The townspeople thought that Neal was Roy's nephew, who had decided to stay for a couple of years, to escape the clutches of a private boarding school. Some of it was true. Most of it was a bunch of lies. Neal had escaped, but not from the perils of a boarding school. He escaped from his old life, and joined Roy._

_He was exploring the lake one day when he came across her. She seemed to be in her own little world, reading a book. Her honey blonde hair blew in the wind, and she pushed it back behind her ears in annoyance. A smile found its way onto Neal's face and he had a sudden urge to speak to her. Before Neal could approach her, he heard a rustling come from behind him. He turned just in time, as Roy appeared before him._

"_So this is where you've been hiding out all day. Come, I have something to show you." Roy said with a smile on his face. The two had gotten close over the year, and Roy couldn't have been happier. His plan was coming along nicely, and Neal didn't suspect a thing. The only reason Neal had stayed with him for so long was the fact that he had worked for the kid's father. Neal wanted to know more about his dad and Roy was more than happy to give information._

_Neal took one last look at the girl, who had sat beside the trunk of a nearby tree, before leaving. He hoped that he would see more of the girl before he had to leave this quaint little town for good. He followed Roy to a different area of town that he was not familiar with. They hadn't been in town long; Neal hadn't had enough time to explore._

"_Where are we going?" Neal questioned._

"_I'm going to teach you how to shoot a gun." Roy said. He had been slowly teaching him how to copy paintings, once he learned of the kid's drawing abilities he knew that his decision to take the boy under his wing was right. It was time to teach Neal how to shoot a gun. It was necessary for men in the conning business to know how to shoot; what else were you going to do when you mess up on a job? _

_Neal was iffy about guns, he knew what damage they could do to someone if used correctly. He was somewhat okay with Roy teaching him about forging paintings and I.D's. it was easy for him to do. But actually learning how to shoot someone? It was going to be hard. Neal didn't know if he had it in him to actually hurt someone. The closest he ever came to hurting someone was back when he was in 7__th__ grade, (He was still living with his mom) and a fellow classmate decided it would be a good idea to duck tape him to his seat and taunt him continuously about his dad. Once he escaped his bonds… well things got ugly. One went home with a black eye, and the other got suspended._

_They made it to a barren meadow in a few minutes. There were a couple of targets lying around, and there were 3 guns on the ground. Roy picked one of the guns up and handed it to Neal. He explained the mechanics of the gun to him, and Neal soaked up the information like a sponge. He picked up another gun for himself to use, and he took aim at one of the farther targets._

"_First you take aim at the one thing you want to shoot. Then you make sure the gun is loaded by cocking it." He cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. It hit the dead center of the target, and he lowered his weapon. "And then you pull the trigger." He looked into Neal's expressive blue eyes and saw a scared yet determined look in them. He was ready for this, Roy was sure of it._

_When Neal watched Roy pull the trigger, he felt anxious. He had no idea if he would be any good or not. He did what Roy instructed him to do, and aimed at one of the targets. He aimed at the one that was closest to them, and pulled the trigger. He felt the gun ricochet in his hands and he struggled to keep it under control. He hit the second ring of the target, which was closest to the center._

_Upon seeing Neal shoot for the first time, Roy began to clap for him. It wasn't typical for a boy at his age to be able to hit that close to the center on his first try. "Well done Nick, well done. If I didn't know better, I would assume that you've been shooting for a while."_

_Neal felt the adrenaline from shooting running in his veins. It was at this time he learned that he liked the rush, it made him feel alive. Made him feel powered. He came to enjoy the rush of shooting a gun, and every time he practiced with Roy, he felt even more powered. Neal practiced with different kinds of guns and became familiar with each one. He made sure to keep this power-hungry side of him away from the girl at the lake, who he came to know as Emmy._

_She had caught him staring at her one day at the lake. She had made a habit of reading there; it was a place that no one really knew about. Neal had been slightly embarrassed about it, he had thought that he had hid himself well. But it didn't stop him from seeing her almost every day. They grew close over the weeks and Neal found himself telling her more about him than he would to anyone. _

_Then one day Emmy wasn't there. Neal waited for her for about three hours before searching for her. He had walked her home enough to know the way to her house from the lake. It wasn't that far, Neal made it in a few minutes. The lights were all off in the house, and the porch was shrouded in darkness. Neal went around to the back yard, where Emmy's room was located. The back door was almost always unlocked and Neal knocked quietly._

_When nobody came to answer Neal opened the door and walked in. He was sure to remain quiet, he didn't know if anyone was home or not. "Emmy" he called out, not aware that a drunken man lay sleeping in the next room over. He heard a door squeak close and he moved towards it, hoping that everything was okay. When he opened the door however, he saw something that made him gasp in shock._

_It was Emmy, but she looked so different from the times he had seen her. She held a blank face, but her eyes were expressive. Emmy looked as if she had been crying for several hours and she was nursing a black eye. She looked scared as she slowly walked towards him, trying not to wake the man who was passed out on the couch. Emmy led him out the back door and her face broke out in concern. _

"_What are you doing here Nick? You could have gotten killed." She said, her voice dripping with worry and concern. She hadn't told him about her father, she didn't want anyone to take pity on her. But now that he had seen, she didn't know what to do. Nick was bound to figure it out, he was a smart guy. And when he did, what would he do? Emmy didn't want to anyone to know, she didn't want to be labeled as the abused girl whose father was an alcoholic._

"_Me? What happened to you? Who did this to you Emmy?" Neal queried. He hadn't known her for long, but he felt a need to protect her, to make her feel happy when she was feeling down. Neal wanted to know who did this to her, so he could try and prevent it from happening again. He would do anything to keep her safe. _

_She gave an exasperated sigh and gave him a pleading look. Emmy knew that Nick would never stop digging for information, would never stop wondering, so she looked him in the eyes and told him the truth. She said, "My mom was driving me home one day from a late game… a drunk driver rammed his car into ours and it ended up killing her. After she died… well my dad was never the same. He became an alcoholic and he started to blame me for her death."_

_Neal didn't know what to say to her. He was shocked to hear that she had been through so much. Neal thought that he was the only one who had a troubled past. He knew that if he suggested she live with Roy and him she would refuse, so he didn't offer. So he held her in his arms, careful to not touch her black eye. Only when he released her from his grip did he speak._

"_My dad died when I was two. Or at least that's what my mom told me. I was twelve when I found out that not only was he alive, he was a dirty cop. I couldn't handle it and I… I ran away." Neal didn't know why he shared this information with her, it just seemed right because she had shared something personal with him. Neal made sure to hide the alarm in his voice because he didn't want Emmy to know of the anger he was feeling. _

_Emmy was grateful for Nick's presence. She knew that nothing bad would happen to her when he was around. Nick had never met her father, but she made sure that no one ever did. Those who she was close to at school had assumptions but none of them really bothered to care. They were afraid to confront her about it and Emmy had stopped giving hints. She learned her father's drinking habits; she knew when to leave the house and when to stay inside. Nick was really the only person who even tried to understand her. And she loved him for it._

* * *

><p>The sound of the car's brakes squeal awakened Neal. He no longer saw the ghost of his past, but he had other things to worry about. Like why he had been kidnapped, and what the mob had planned for him. Whatever it was, he knew it couldn't be good. He heard the engine of the car churn to a stop and the sound of a car door being slammed was evident. He strained to hear the muffled shouts that were coming from outside the car. It sounded like an argument that went bad because shortly after the shouts began, they ended. Neal heard multiple gun shots and his heart raced in his chest. He couldn't help but wonder if he was to share the same fate.<p>

**Author's Notes 2: nothing really to say here, except for... LESS THAN TEN MINUTES AWAY FROM THE PREMIERE! ^_^ anyways please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: So so so sorry for the delay! My annoying teachers assigned me a bunch of review projects that i have to do by Wednesday. I also have finals to do so an update might not be possible until the next weekend. But i will try to get it up sooner. please review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own white collar. I do however own irritable teachers who absolutely insist upon giving review work when it's not necessary.**

Diana was following a trail of information, one that would hopefully lead back to Daniel Clark, when she got the call. It was Peter, and he sounded somewhat frantic. He told her that Neal was kidnapped, and that he needed her to come by his house as soon as possible. Diana didn't know what was going on, but she trusted her boss enough to know that it wasn't good. Whatever it was. She grabbed her bag and turned to leave the building. Before she reached the elevators however, she received the double finger point from Hughes.

Hughes knew something was off in the department. First Peter ducks out early, with a somewhat credible excuse but now his right hand agent, Diana, was leaving as well. Something was up and Hughes had an inkling that it had to do with Caffrey's disappearance. So he stood, and gave her the double finger point before she could leave.

"Barrigan!" he called out. She looked at him and he gave her the finger point. He heard the shuffling of her feet against the floor as he went into his office. Diana knew that this meeting wasn't going to be a good one, (when is it ever a good one?) but followed the man into his office.

* * *

><p>Peter waited at his dining room table for Diana to arrive. What he didn't know however, was that Hughes was tagging along. Diana had told him nothing of Peter's theory of Neal protecting them; she only said that Peter had needed her for something urgent. So when Diana knocked on the door, Peter was surprised to see his superior there as well.<p>

"Diana… Hughes, what are you doing here?" Peter asked, as he glanced to the couch where the small blood drops lay. Fortunately Hughes took no notice to the messy house and took a step closer to Peter.

"Peter you've got to tell me what's going on here. I can't have you running about, searching for Caffrey when there are unsolved cases on your desk." Hughes was getting tired of this behavior that was coming from Burke. The secrets, the lies… it was tiring and frankly he didn't know what to do anymore. He knew that words were no longer going to change Peter's mind.

"You don't understand Sir…" Peter tried to explain to his boss what had just happened but he was giving him no room to talk. Had he known that Hughes was coming, he would have provided a good cover story. _'A cover story? I'm beginning to sound like Neal.'_ Peter hadn't picked up the slight changes he went through since their partnership began. But now that he thinks about it he realizes that the changes have been more than slight. His world had been black and white before that fateful day when Neal broke out. But now…now it was just gray, no distinction between good and bad.

"I understand perfectly what's going on Burke. You let Caffrey con you into believing that he was changing and when you least expected it he ran. It's clear to me now that you still think that he's coming back. Don't you think that if he wanted to come back, he would have by now?" It was true, if Caffrey wanted to continue working with them he wouldn't have ran in the first place. Sure, the anklet was an annoyance for Neal, but he had been adjusting to the lifestyle.

Peter wouldn't let Hughes' words persuade him into believing lies that were constructed to get him back to his world of black and white. If he did, Neal would most likely suffer the consequences. He would never turn his back on his partner… his friend. He sighed and looked deep into Hughes eyes. He said, "He did. Neal came to me last night, with some bruised ribs and a concussion. Said he was tired of running. From what he didn't say. I let him spend the night and I was going to bring him in later on today… until I came upon this."

He showed both Diana (who had been listening in quietly to the debate among her superiors) and Hughes the blood drops that lead to the back door. "Are they Neal's?" Diana asked, careful to keep her tone neutral. She didn't want to show it, but she had come to consider Caffrey an ally, not just a charming conman out to get all of her money. No, Neal wasn't like that. Sure, he could charm you into giving him all of your life savings, but he didn't. He was more into the paintings, the elusive thefts that only Peter could discern.

"Don't know… but what I do know is that we're running out of time." Peter said, with an air of anxiety. Both Hughes and Diana weren't sure what he meant by that, but they soon would. Peter thought back to when he was talking with Neal earlier. He had said that he was confronted by a known enforcer of the Aldo family, a family that didn't like thieves, or snitches for that matter. Wherever Neal was, he was in for a world of hurt. Peter just hoped that he could make it until they found him.

* * *

><p>After hearing the gun shots, the only thing Neal could do was fumble around for a weapon of some sort to defend himself with. He found none. The trunk opened suddenly and the light blinded him for a few minutes. Rough hands pulled him out of the trunk and carried him into what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse. He was thrown onto the dusty floor and coughed as the dust entered his mouth.<p>

"Come." A harsh Italian accent was heard as Neal was once again forced to stand. He was pushed into the adjacent room that smelled of illegal Cuban cigars. There was a single desk in the warehouse and its occupant was shrouded in darkness. Even with the darkness covering his face, Neal could take a guess at who it could be. His guess was the head of the family, Benedict Aldo. A man who could tear apart your life in a matter of days.

The man behind him motioned for him to sit in one of the elegant chairs that lined the room, but Neal refused to sit. It would be easier for him to run if he needed to.

"Adriano tells me that you are a close associate of our friend Daniel Clark. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, right." Neal assumes that the man behind him is Adriano. He doesn't know when this will come in handy but he files it away anyways. He currently has no idea where Roy is; Neal pushed him away after Mauro came after him. Thinking about the man who brought him here makes Neal remember the shots he heard in the trunk of the car. Adriano must have killed him…

"Not a clue. Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have things to take care of, people to see." Neal tried to turn around, but the guard behind him placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Adriano glared at him, his olive green eyes squinting in the darkness.

"Please sit. I only ask of you this. Where is Clark? Give me the wrong answer… and well you won't like what happens next." Neal swallowed uncertainly and felt Adriano's hand force him to sit in one of the plush green chairs. He never asked for any of this. He didn't want Roy to come back into his life, he didn't want to run from the Bureau and most of all, he didn't want to be held captive by the fricken Italian mob.

"I told you. I have no clue where he is. We just met up to talk about a deal about a painting, that's it." Was Neal lying through his teeth? Yes, but it didn't really matter. It was one of the things he did best. If it helped him to escape he would do it. Anything to escape the danger he was in.

A slight clucking noise was heard coming from the man and Adriano instantly forced Neal out of his chair and put his rough hands around his throat. "I do not like being lied to. Tell me where he is and I will spare you the torture."

Neal gasped for breath as he continued, "Throw him in the chamber. If he doesn't talk soon, then he will suffer." Adriano's hands instantly relaxed from its grip around Neal's neck. Neal dropped to the floor and began to pant. Adriano picked him up with ease and began walking out the door and through various hallways. The trip passed in a haze for Neal, who was still fighting against the waves of nausea that came with his concussion. He was thrown into yet another dusty room and he barely heard the door slam and lock behind him due to the amount of dust that had flown upwards and the panting that came with it.

* * *

><p>If Neal got kidnapped by the mob, then things were about to get hairy. He didn't tell Hughes this because he knew that if he did the case would immediately get transferred to Ruiz, a man that only cared about results and nothing about criminal consultants. A frown was plastered onto Hughes face as he said, "Okay Peter, you take the lead on this one. I want to be kept in the loop and no more secret meetings. All information goes through me before you do anything."<p>

Peter nodded as Hughes made his way out the front door. He then turned to Diana who asked, "What happens if we run out of time?" She didn't want any harm to come to Neal; after all without him the office would be restless.

"Neal will most likely be killed and I'll have to look for a different job." Peter said cryptically.

"Is it that bad?" Peter gave her a look that promptly said, '_Do you even have to ask?_'

"What did he get himself into this time?" She asked. Diana knew that trouble always seemed to follow Caffrey wherever he went and that it was up to both her, Jones, and Peter to get the guy out safe and sound.

"Ever heard of the Aldo crime syndicate?" Peter asked as he took a closer look at the series of blood drops that were leading towards the back door, which was blown open because of the blowing wind.

"Yeah, I heard one of the guys from Ruiz's division rant about them about a week ago. They lost quite a lot of money recently. Made one of their undercover guys blow a fuse." She said, remembering the fight that had taken place in the buildings lounge. Ryan Valastro, (one of the main undercover's working to put Aldo behind bars) had entered the room cursing to himself about the necessities of trust in a relationship or something along the lines of that. He began throwing things about 15 minutes in. The aftermath wasn't pretty. Two security guards had to drag him out before people got hurt.

Peter cursed to himself suddenly and instantly Diana knew what was up. "Neal's involved somehow isn't he?" She asked. Peter not answering her gave her everything she needed to know. If they knew who Neal was, and that he worked for the F.B.I as a consultant... things were about to go bad, fast. If they didn't however... things could turn out slightly different. If anything both Peter and her would have enough time to find him... if Neal weren't so hard to find in the first place! Having the ability to disappear has it's perks. This is not one of them.

"We better get started then." She said with a hint of a smile on her face. She knew for a fact that no matter how long it takes for them to find Caffrey, they'll do it. Maybe not exactly safe and sound, but safe enough to recover.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: Well I'm finally out of school, so updates will most likely be more frequent. I tried to get it up last night but my dad forced me off the computer. You know how it goes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own white collar so don't sue me. All you'll get is a rotting corpse of a mouse my parents found behind the drier. EWWW.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>It was cold. And dark. And wet?<p>

Neal shivered and curled into himself, trying to preserve any body heat that was left. He heard a dripping noise coming from the ceiling, a fact that was beginning to get on his nerves.

_Drip, drip, drip._

He scowled at the dark ceiling and looked around the chamber once more; trying to find something, anything, that would help him get out of these cuffs. He stumbled to his feet, and hissed at the pain that came with it. Whatever drug they had given him, had one hell of a side effect. Or maybe that was just the concussion talking.

Either way that dripping was maddening. And the further it went on, the further Neal came to caving. He would have expected physical torture, not psychological torture. Was it just him or was the walls somehow getting smaller? He never liked being confined in a relatively small place...He could barely survive prison for four years, let alone a small chamber that seemed to be about 25 degrees colder than the average room temperature.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip._

He started pacing. He paced and paced and paced, until he finally found something useful. There was a small paperclip on the ground, covered in dust. Neal smiled at once and bent down to get it. His ribs sent up a flare of pain in defiance. He bent the paperclip into the right shape and began working on the cuffs. Soon they clicked open and Neal wore a smirk of happiness on his face.

Neal walked towards the door and strained to hear out of it. He wanted to know if there were any guards like Adriano taking patrol around the warehouse. Hearing none, Neal preceded to pick the lock on the door. Once it opened, Neal peered out the door and sneaked out, careful not to make any noise. He tip-toed towards the room where he had his nice little chat with Aldo, knowing that it would be the only place with a working phone.

After entering the room Neal began his search for a phone. He had to somehow contact Peter, or his burn phone, which had fallen out of his pocket when he tried to run from Mauro. He rifled through the desk and after a few minutes he found what he needed. It was a sleek black flip phone. Neal looked around the room before flipping the phone open and sending a text to his burner phone that he knew that Peter would look at. He didn't know when but he knew that it would be looked at sooner or later.

Footsteps are heard marching out in the hallway and Neal quickly erases the text and puts the phone back where he found it. "Dannazione, se l'è cavata! Adriano!" Aldo yelled when he noticed that Neal had escaped. Neal looked for a place to hide, since the only exit was the one that led to where Aldo was. He finds none.

* * *

><p>They spend the next few hours scouring Peter's house for any clues that Neal might have left behind for them. They find none. No more blood drops, no messages, nothing at all that could lead them to Neal. Peter sighs and starts to stand. Diana stops filing through the mess of papers on the floor as he says, "There's nothing here."<p>

Diana looked around once more before reaching for the burner phone that had made its way into her pile of papers. She said, "Boss, do you recognize these numbers? They look like complete gibberish to me."

She passed the phone to Peter, who looked at the numbers in confusion. It was a new text that had come in just a couple of minutes ago, from a phone number that neither Diana or Peter recognized. The text said, "2225533777999 # 777666999 # 44335557" Peter mouthed the numbers to himself quietly, thinking about what it could mean.

Finally he understood. "It's a code." He motioned for a piece of paper and pencil, intent on solving the code. He wrote out the numbers and dug inside his pocket for his phone. He tapped out the numbers on his phone and transferred them onto the paper. After a few minutes he showed Diana what he found. The paper read, "Bakery Roy Help"

"Last night, Neal told me that an old colleague of his, Roy Croft, is the one we've been looking for. Daniel Clark is an alias." Peter explained as he collected the numerous evidence bags. "Let's go back to the office. Catch Jones up and get as much information about the Aldo syndicate you can without alerting Ruiz. I don't want this case to be his…Not until Neal's out of there alive."

* * *

><p>After noticing that the young man had escaped from the chamber, he called out to Adriano in Italian, "<em>Damn it, he got away Adriano!<em>" Adriano ran to his side and offered him his gun, but no excuse or explanation as to why he escaped so quickly. He entered his office, gun at the ready, and found who he was looking for. The young man had a petrified look on his face, partly because of the gun Aldo was carrying and part of it was the fear that always came with getting caught.

"I do not know how you escaped, I do not care. I just want my money…and since you do not know where it is, you shall suffer." He aimed the gun at Neal and shot. Neal staggered backwards and fell to the floor. He had been hit on the shoulder, the crimson blood flowing out like a river. Aldo made his way over to Neal and studied his pain ridden face. Something about his face was familiar. Too familiar.

It came to him about five minutes later. Clark had shown him an old picture of him and some boy one day at the bakery. He had said that every summer he went hunting with his nephew… until his sister had disappeared and taken the boy with her. Clark had said that he was only in town because he had to convince the same nephew to run from the Feds, who had persuaded him to join on as a consultant.

"Neal Caffrey…"

Upon hearing his name, he flinched. So much for being secretive about his identity. He knew the way the mob felt about snitches, especially ones who can charm the biggest criminal's into making a mistake. His shoulder felt like it was on fire and he hoped that unconscious would claim him soon. It didn't.

He saw Aldo's mouth moving, but he never heard the words. Time seemed to slow down as Neal was carried back to the freezing chamber and tied down to a folding chair. It is there, in the cold and the dark, where Neal finally passes out.

WCWCWCWC

Back at the office Peter looked over the note Neal had left once more. The lines, "_I only mean to protect you from knowing something about myself that no one else should know about. It's one of the reasons why I have decided to do this. If it wasn't for me, none of us would be in this situation in the first place._" stood out among the others. Neal made it seem like everything that was happening was his fault. If anything it was Roy's. He was the one who decided to rob the mob of 100 grand and made Neal destroy the file. Peter could see why Neal would blame himself for it, if Hughes knew what had happened to the file Peter would be blamed and most likely suspended for tampering with evidence…but still…why would Neal need to hide his past from Peter? The past was the past, even though that past may or may not contain several thefts of valuable paintings.

There was a knock on his door and he motioned for his two junior agents to come in. "Did you find anything?" Peter asked as he leaned back in his chair. Jones had been caught up with the situation and held a blue case file in his hands.

"Other than the fact that they lost quite a bit of money recently, nothing came up. The family is suspected of doing everything from murder to money laundering, but no charge has ever stuck. Witnesses disappear, bribes are paid… you know the drill." Jones said and handed the file to Peter. The file contained a picture of the leader himself, Benedict Aldo. His hair was graying, but he didn't look bothered by it. His dazzling green eyes looked dangerous, even in the picture. Peter prayed to god that Neal wouldn't piss him off. He knew that it would end badly.

"What about Roy? Find anything new?" Peter asked as he flipped the folder shut and placed it on his desk.

Diana shook her head and said, "Nothing. No credit cards, no paper trail, it's like the guy doesn't even exist. The only thing we found was a wanted poster and that dates back about 28 years ago."

Peter frowned in thought. They were stuck. If Neal learned everything he knew from Roy, it's no wonder that Roy would be good at disappearing. Peter thought of the bags of evidence that was sitting in a box in the conference room to his right and thought of an idea. "Keep looking and call me if you get anything new." Peter said as he made his way to the empty conference room.

"What are you planning?" Diana asked as she somewhat followed Peter into the room. Jones waivered at the top of the stairs, not wanting to be out of the loop again.

"Neal must have told someone about his plans."Peter said as he opened the evidence bag containing Neal's burner phone. He searched the contacts to no avail; there were only numbers and no names.

"You're going to see Mozzie…"

* * *

><p>When Neal woke up he noticed two things. One, the room had gotten colder while he was unconscious, and two, the security had improved. The doorknob had been removed from the door and the locks had been changed. He tried to get up, but he felt the plastic zip ties around his ankles and hands, successfully tying him down to the chair. His shoulder had somewhat stopped bleeding, but it ached like crazy and when he tried to move it he winced.<p>

Neal heard the sound of someone fumbling with the outside doorknob and Aldo soon entered the room. He took a look at Neal's wounded shoulder and smirked. "You say you met with Clark for a deal on a painting, right?" He says, and produces a hunting knife from behind his back. Neal eyes the knife cautiously and says nothing, knowing that whatever he says will just make Aldo angrier.

"You're lying. I know you are his nephew and yet you continue to try to deceive me into believing otherwise. You must think that you can con yourself out of this. Well Mr. Caffrey, I'll teach you that there is no way out of this unless you give me my money." Aldo says as he lightly caresses Neal's face with the knife. It doesn't draw any blood but Neal has to hold back a shiver at the cool metal touching his face.

Just as Aldo is about to apply pressure to the blade, the door burst open and another man comes in, one that Neal does not recognize. He looks about 39 or so, with dark brown hair and coal gray eyes. Neal can see the gun in his holster and wonders just what the man is about to do. Aldo looks up and glares at the man who just interrupted his attempt at torturing Neal for information.

"I'm a little busy here Vincenzio, is there something you need from me?" Aldo said as he put the knife away. He looked a little aggravated that someone had the guts to come in here unannounced and not have anything to say about it.

"You don't want to kill this man Benedict." Neal was glad that at least someone didn't want to kill him here. He hoped that this man would help get out of this alive and well enough to contact Peter.

"And why, pray tell, would I not kill him? He knows where the money is. Money that you were in charge of, if I remember correctly." Aldo's voice was filled with poison as he gripped the knife harder. Neal had never seen someone so worked up about some missing money. Maybe it was a special kind of money, like a counterfeiting ring that couldn't risk being caught by the F.B.I.

"You said he is related to Clark right?" Vincenzio said with a slight smirk on his face. When Aldo nodded he continued, "Use him as leverage. Him for the money."

Aldo looked at Vincenzio warily, as if he didn't know if he could trust the young man or not. Neal filed that information away for later, if the moment ever came. "He has a point you know." Neal said, trying to persuade Aldo to listen to Vincenzio.

"Shut it." Aldo looked over his shoulder and gave Neal the death glare. He didn't need some two bit conman telling him what to do. He could think out his own plans.

"Shutting it."

"Where would we send the ransom note huh? We do not know where Clark is." Aldo said, somewhat annoyed. He hated being showed up by a newbie. They thought they knew everything about anything but they never experienced the hardships of it all. They only knew of the pain.

Vincenzio produced a video camera from behind his back as he said, "The F.B.I headquarters of course."

* * *

><p>"I saw a mockingbird in the park today." Came the monotonous voice of the man who held all the knowledge Peter needed. He sat in the darkness of Neal's apartment, (his choice not Peters) sipping at what seemed to be some of Neal's wine.<p>

Peter flicked on the lights and said, "Enough of the mockingbird crap Mozzie. I need information." The apartment was relatively empty, as everything that was thought of as evidence of Neal's so called disappearance was bagged and transferred to the evidence lockup.

"And I need proof that the moon landing was fake Suit. Next time you will have to abide by my rules if you want information." Peter sighed and walked closer to Neal's paranoid friend.

"Come on Mozzie. I need you to work with me on this one."

Mozzie puts down the glass and glances at Peter, noticing many things that weren't there before. It looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while and the taxing search for Neal wasn't helping much. Mozzie mentally berated himself for beginning to care for a fed; what was he thinking?

"Alright Suit, what do you need?" Mozzie asked. Peter had been abnormally vague on the phone, wanting to be discreet. Mozzie had shown up at Neal's place and managed to get one of the many bottles of wine Neal had hidden among the apartment in an attempt to get Mozzie to stop stealing them.

"Has Neal ever told you about a person named Roy Croft?" Peter asked. Having found no information whatsoever on the database, Peter went to the next best thing, namely Mozzie and his infinite amount of sources.

Mozzie frowned in thought and said, "He didn't say specifics but he did talk about a guy, said he was the one who taught him a lot about the conning business. I asked Neal what happened to him, seeing as you don't just forget about a mentor like that in the kind of business we're in."

"And..?"

"He said they had a falling out, when he was about 17 or so." Mozzie looked at Peter with uncertainty, as if the fed had forgotten to tell him something. Something important. "Why do you need to know anyways?"

Peter opened his mouth and promptly closed it again. He forgot that Mozzie didn't know that Neal had gotten kidnapped. He looked at the man nervously and said, "About that…. Mozzie, Neal's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped? Why didn't you tell me sooner Suit!" Mozzie stood, mildly outraged. He knew that Neal ran from them, but he didn't know that it would lead to this!

Peter opened his mouth, clearly flabbergasted. The truth was that he forgot to tell Mozzie. He hadn't even called Elle once during the time that Neal had escaped. She probably thought that everything was going fine when really everything was falling apart.

"I forgot?" Peter said with a shameful expression on his face. It really was a horrible trait, forgetfulness. He was glad that he had someone like Elle to remind him of such things. Mozzie shook his head slowly and muttered to himself quietly.

"If you told me sooner I would have been able to set up a meeting with…" Mozzie seemed to realize who he was with before continuing, "My business partners. I would have had more information to give you!"

Something clicked in Peter's head. Roy had arranged the meeting between him and Neal right? Then that must mean that somewhere in Neal's burner phone, there was Roy's number. They would use that to draw him out and he would lead them to Neal.

* * *

><p>Peter rushed to the office and went immediately to where he last put the burner phone. Diana joined him when she saw him rush up the stairs. She said, "How was the meeting?" In Peter's absence Diana and Jones had been trying to figure out where Neal hid for the three weeks he was missing. They found nothing.<p>

"Pretty uneventful actually. I got some information about him, but nothing that would lead me to him." Peter flipped open the phone and went through the text messages. "I did however find a way to contact Roy. We send him a text, saying it's Neal. We bring him in and he'll give us information. Simple as that."

"I'll go set it up." Diana said as she turned to leave. If this went right, they would not only have their prime suspect in the embezzlement case in custody, they would also have information that would lead to Neal's safe return.

Peter smiled in triumph when he found a recent text from a couple of days ago. It was Roy, setting up a meet with Neal at the park. A falling out between the two would definitely explain Neal's weird behavior and their relationship in the past explained why Neal destroyed the file about him. It just showed that even after a falling out, Neal was still somewhat loyal to those who betrayed him.

* * *

><p>Roy had been hiding out ever since Neal confronted him about not knowing enough about the job before running from the feds. He stayed out of contact for a while, making sure to cover his tracks well. He received a text from Neal, requesting that they talk about something important. Roy walked towards the café at a brisk pace, wanting to get the meeting done quickly. He was risking getting caught by Aldo and his henchmen the longer he stayed out in the open.<p>

When he reached the café, he knew that something was wrong. Neal was nowhere in sight, something that he had specified clearly in the text. The café opened and a man with short brown hair and a badge was seen walking towards him. Roy cursed to himself and tried to turn and walk away from the obvious fed. It didn't work.

The fed handcuffed him and put him in his car, which drove off to what Roy assumed to be the Federal building. The fed was quiet all the way through, a fact that mystified Roy. Normally when someone brought him in they wouldn't shut up about how easy it was, or how smug his smile was. This… this was different. This particular fed was somewhat familiar, as if the two men had met somewhere before but when Roy doesn't know.

The elevator stopped at the 21st floor and it opened to a somewhat empty floor. It was late, about 8:30 p.m. or so, but it wasn't late enough to stop the few agents that were working the case. Roy was escorted to the conference room, which was directly next to what appeared to be two major offices. The handcuffs were never removed.

Before the silent agent could begin his questioning Roy said, "You look familiar… Have I threatened you before?" The threatening part was a joke, to see if the stiff Agent would laugh, or at the very least smile. He did nothing. His brown eyes narrowed and a small scowl was seen on his face.

"Calm down. It was just a joke. But in all seriousness, what do you need me for Agent…?" Roy said with a carefree attitude. They had nothing on him that would stick. If he wanted to he could walk right out of here and disappear in the dust once again.

"Special Agent Peter Burke. You were seen breaking into Greenacre Park three days ago, talking with a criminal that is on the run. Where is he now?" Peter questioned. If his gut was right, and it usually was, Roy was behind Neal's kidnapping, not the syndicate. The way he saw it, Roy was at fault because he was the reason why Neal ran. Their falling out was the reason for Neal's weird behavior.

After hearing the stoic Agent's name, he remembered where he saw him. It was a picture of him on the web, after he had heard that Neal was now a consultant for the Bureau, he decided to look it up to see if it was true or not. Unfortunately it was. This was his handler/keeper, the one who was in charge of him. "So you're the one who decided it was a good idea to have Neal as a criminal consultant. You're the one who made his life hell all those years ago."

"I'm not sure I follow."

Roy sat back in his chair and chuckled to himself quietly. The man was clueless as to who Neal really was. Clearly they hadn't been together long. Roy liked to think that he was the only one who knew the real Neal, not just some façade that controlled his actions. "You're the reason why he's in this mess in the first place. If you hadn't accepted the deal then maybe Neal would be off living with Kate at an undisclosed location. He would be happy."

Peter stayed quiet, letting the older con's words sink in. Who was he to think that Neal would have been happy with Kate? He wasn't there when Neal confessed to his not wanting to run anymore. "If I hadn't accepted the deal he would be out there stealing paintings, and you know breaking the law."

"Semantics." Roy said with a wave of his hand. It made Neal happy, and when Neal was happy, Roy was happy.

"Do you know where he is?" Peter asked again, trying to get back on topic. He could see why Neal was freaking out, Roy seemed to be a little on the weird side. But then again, who wasn't weird if they were friends with Neal Caffrey? Mozzie sure was weird… and so was Randy. Both Alex and Kate were… sneaky, not weird.

"Do you really think that I would tell you if I knew? Come on Peter." Roy said, using the feds first name like he knew the guy well, even though they had just met. He continued, "For a guy who singlehandedly caught Neal twice, you don't seem dumb. And yet you're clueless as to who Neal truly is. You don't know him like I do."

Roy was beginning to aggravate Peter. He thought that he knew everything about Neal when really; all he knew was a lie. There was no way that Neal actually felt that way about Peter. And anyways, how did Roy know all of this if he hadn't seen Neal for 18 years? Was he just blindly guessing at Neal's true feelings? Or did he just assume that because he taught Neal everything, he knew everything that was running through his head?

"Explain him to me then." Peter said, not letting his emotions show through his voice. He can see why Neal didn't want him to meet Roy. He probably knew that sparks would fly between the two and that would eventually lead to arguments that would inflict major emotional scaring.

But before Roy can explain, Jones knocks on the door. Peter lets him in and he places a package on the table. It's a medium sized brown box, with a small sticky note on it. The sticky says, "Open me." They open it and in the package is a white cd labeled "Play me." There is also a note in the package, written in what appears to be red ink.

It says, _"Dear Agent Burke, _

_You have something that I want. Namely, my 100 grand your consultant managed to steal from me. I get the money and you get him back. You have 12 hours to find the cash or he dies. Don't believe me? Watch the disk. It should be enough proof to you that I don't mess around."_

Upon closer inspection of the note, Peter realizes that it's not written in red ink at all. It's written with blood. Neal's blood.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I say that updates will be more frequent and yet this is probably the most you've ever waited for a chapter... -_-' sorry. I swear though, updates will come!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, only Emmy, Roy, and all other bad guys. Everything else is not mine. (no matter how hard I wish for it.)**

**Enjoy!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Play it again."<p>

They had just finished watching the tape for the second time, the first time Peter couldn't get past the beating Neal had taken. The second, he had tried not to watch as his partner was hit over and over again by the mobsters and tried to gather as much details as he could. "Are you sure Boss?" Diana asked, her voice cautiously neutral. She didn't voice it, but she knew that there was only so much torture a person can stand and this video made it seem like Neal had endured the maximum.

Roy had insisted upon staying in the room, but now he was regretting his decision. Not only did he feel like he was the one that made this happen to Neal, he felt the sparking of a jealous rage start inside him. It was directed towards Peter, of course. The fed thought that he could persuade Neal to become a good guy like the rest of the Feds in the world… It was sickening to watch up close. Neal didn't belong in the world of do-gooders and the sooner Peter learned that, the better.

Peter nodded his head to Diana to show that he wanted, no needed to watch it again. He knew that this case was serious to begin with, but he was using kid's gloves with it. He felt like he needed to remind himself of just what they were dealing with. And the video made sure of that.

The video started and the first thing that Peter sees is Neal, panting hard to catch his breath. There are small cuts on his face and upper torso, but Peter saw nothing that was cause for worry, that is until the rest of Neal's body was shown in the video. There's a gunshot that is still bleeding freely on his shoulder, and the bruises on his lower chest have turned an ugly purple hue.

Neal seems to be watching someone warily, as if at any moment they will strike him dead. Peter winced involuntary at the metaphor, seeing as how someone might just kill Neal at any time. The man who Neal has been watching intently finally comes into view, and Peter recognizes him to be the man behind the curtain. Benedict Aldo.

He has a somewhat bloody knife in his hands and he appears to be admiring both the length and the sharpness of the blade. But Peter knows it to be a ruse. He knows that it's just a ruse in order to get Neal to talk about the money.

"I hear you are quite famous now Neal. Just one mention of your name and it does wonders." Aldo said with a wave of his knife wielding hand.

"Well I always knew I was popular." Neal says, his voice somewhat strained. The way Neal is acting makes Peter want to jump in the video and scream, _'Shut up Neal! You're just making things worse!' _but he manages to hold himself back.

A smirk appeared on Aldo's face as he said, "Popular enough for even the Feds to want you?"

Neal looked at Aldo with what seemed to be an unsure expression before it changed to an expression Peter knew well, it was one of pretend mirth, "What can I say? The Bureau has fine taste in con men."

Aldo turned his head away from Neal, an angry frown on his face. He looked at the camera and Peter shivered when he saw Aldo's eyes. They held no emotion whatsoever, and his once dazzling green eyes turned dark and cold. He took one second to admire the blade and then he promptly sliced Neal across the chest. This is the third time Peter has seen this video and yet he jumps every time he sees Aldo slice Neal like he's a piece of meat.

Neal let out a yelp of surprise at the move, and a sharp intake of breath was heard as the blood dripped slowly from the wound. Neal tried to rein in control of his reflexes as he looked straight at the camera. An unknown emotion flashed through his eyes before Aldo put his hands on Neal's shoulders and whispered loudly, "Don't get smart with me Caffrey."

Neal held back a gasp and fought to stay conscious. His shoulder felt like it was on fire, and he could feel the blood soaking through his ripped shirt. It must have caught on something on his less than stellar ride in the trunk. Neal pushed the thought aside; he had better things to do than to wonder where his shirt had ripped. Like how the hell he was going to get out of this situation alive. He doubted that Vincenzio would stick around for long; he was the only one that didn't want Neal to be killed.

Aldo finally released his death grip on Neal and a small sigh of relief was heard through the video. Peter released a breath he didn't know he was holding. _'This is my entire fault… If only I brought him in earlier... then maybe he wouldn't be in this situation.' _Peter mused darkly as he watched Neal look into the camera once more. There was something about his gaze that made Peter wonder. Was Neal trying to give him a message? Or was it just a reflex?

Peter didn't have a chance to ponder it anymore. Aldo threw the bloody knife onto what Peter assumed to be a table that was conveniently out of the camera's range and began to pace quietly, muttering words that weren't picked up by the recording device. After a few seconds, Peter saw that wild look in Aldo's eyes again and hoped to God that Neal would be alright. But no, Peter knew somewhere in the back of his mind that Neal would not be alright after this. God only knew how he would be after what he went through.

Suddenly Aldo kicked over the chair that Neal was tied to, making the young con man fall over with it. Neal began coughing, so loudly that it made Peter wince. Aldo made his way over to the camera, placing his face close to it. He said darkly, "By now, you must know that I do not fool around when it comes to thieves. You have until tomorrow at noon to find my money, or Caffrey dies. I will not hesitate to kill him. I will be waiting at Central Park. If anyone but Daniel Clark delivers the money, Caffrey dies. And if I see any Feds trying to follow me, I will splatter Caffrey's brains out."

The screen went black after that. Peter glanced over at Roy who had taken refuge over by the windows. Before he confronted Roy about the money, he said, "Jones, Diana, get a team together. Get the good agents if you can."

Jones and Diana made their way out of the conference room as Peter walked towards Roy. Roy looked up at Peter with a look of disgust mixed with anger. Peter knew the man had an issue with him but he didn't know it would go this far. "Where's the money Roy?" He asked.

"What money?" Roy said with an angry look. It made his blue eyes light up in a way that Peter has never seen before. He assumes that if Neal ever got angry enough, his eyes would look the same.

"The money that you stole." Peter emphasized the word stole before continuing, "I know you're Daniel Clark. Neal told me about what he did for you. And now he's paying the price."

"So what? Neal can take care of himself."

An angry sigh escaped Peter's lips before he said, "If you paid any attention to that video you would know that this isn't a situation Neal can get out of alive. He can't escape that place without our help."

"What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that the longer you stay here, wasting time we don't have, the bigger chance Neal will die." Roy averted his eyes and looked back outside at the New York streets. He knew that he would have to make a decision within the next hour or so. It seemed like an easy one, 100 grand or Neal. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't risk being indicted, not now.

A tense silence passed between the two men. Peter knew that they had a mutual dislike of each other, but he was being the bigger man. He was at least trying to forget about it until they could get Neal back. After that, Peter had no problem throwing Roy in prison for what he did.

"Now where's the money Roy?" Roy finally looked Peter in the eyes and he regretted every minute of it. Sure, he wanted to help Neal, but Roy would rather face the wrath of Aldo than to go to prison. He wouldn't voice it of course, but he feared prison because of his father. His father was a wealthy business man, who Roy thought traveled the world saving children from war. Roy couldn't be any more wrong about his father's work. He found out when he was about 13 or so. He found out that his father wasn't saving anyone, he was killing them brutally. Roy had helped the police by sending pictures of his father with the bodies. Soon his father was sent to prison for life, and Roy knew just by the look on his face, that he knew Roy had helped with the indictment. He knew that his own son had betrayed him.

"I… I can't tell you."

Another sigh was expelled from Peter's lips but this time it was more calm, more frustrated than anything. Roy wasn't going to tell him where the money was. He was more afraid of being convicted than risking his life for Neal, who was like a student to him. Granted, Roy did teach Neal all the wrong things in life, like how to crack a safe and paint impeccable forgeries, but a teacher is a teacher.

WCWCWCWCWC

Neal lay on the dusty floor of the chamber, breathing hard. It was getting harder and harder to catch his breath. It didn't help that minutes before Aldo had stormed out of the chamber, he had forcefully kicked Neal in the chest five times. The camera had thankfully not captured that moment, but Neal knew that Peter would be holding back his anger when viewing the video. Peter had a way of worrying about Neal during dangerous operations. Neal didn't mind it once in a while but sometimes he had to remind the man that he doesn't have to worry about him all the time.

He closes his eyes, concentrating on slowing his breathing. He wasn't aware of it, but he fell into the pit of darkness known as unconsciousness soon after closing his eyes.

WCWCWCWC

**(A couple of months after Neal found out about Emmy and her father.)**

_Summer was ending and Neal was antsy about the upcoming school year. Emmy had asked if he was going to join her in the newly rebuilt high school and Neal hadn't answered. He wanted to go of course, but he didn't know how Roy would take it. They weren't supposed to be in town for long. Neal could tell that Roy was eager to leave this small quaint town behind._

_The topic had come up one day, when the both of them were enjoying a warm summer evening at the lake. Emmy was dipping her legs into the cool water while Neal was sitting under a tree, drawing in a sketch pad. He wouldn't show Emmy any of his drawings, not for fear of them being judged, but for fear of something else entirely. Neal wouldn't show her because it was Emmy he was drawing. They were at the lake almost every day and everyday Neal would draw her. Without her knowing of course. _

"_School is going to start soon Nick." Emmy stared at the blue sky, admiring the fluffy clouds that lie there. She smiled as she turned her head towards Neal. He was half paying attention to her and the other half was to his drawing. He looked at peace with himself, like he was content with how his life had turned out so far. He wouldn't voice it, but Emmy knew that his life had been hard. She had never met his uncle, but she had heard enough things in town to know that he was… shifty. _

_He finally looked up from his drawing when she continued to talk, "Are you excited?"_

_The question made Neal break his pencil tip against the piece of paper, successfully making a dark mark in the middle of the drawing, where Emmy's hair was shown blowing in the wind. He shrugged as he reached for the pencil sharpener he always had with him. "I don't know… I'm not a big fan of school to begin with." _

_Which was marginally true; Neal understood the material better than most of the other students. That meant that he was able to do whatever he wanted while the others went over review work. School got boring after a while. Emmy stopped kicking her legs in the water and gave Neal a weird look. Neal just continued sharpening as if he hadn't noticed the look._

"_Really? I would have thought you liked it. Seeing as how you like to flaunt your smarts to me every time I say something wrong about art." Neal chuckled to himself as Emmy continued to kick her legs back and forth. He had shown Emmy Roy's stash of paintings one day, when Roy was out somewhere for the day. Luckily Roy hadn't caught them looking, but Neal made sure to cover his tracks when cracking the hidden wall safe in Roy's room. She had commented on the pieces, saying all of the wrong things. Neal had corrected her and she held it over him since then. _

"_Are you excited?" _

"_Of course I am. New school means new friends; new friends' means new names to remember. You know how it goes." Emmy always liked the start of the school year. It marked a new beginning; a new image could shine through the old one. New friends could be made, old ones would be lost. But none of that mattered anymore. As long as she had Nick at her side, she knew that she would be able to survive it all._

_A comfortable silence passed between the two. Neal was working on his drawing again and Emmy had her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds of nature around them. The crickets whistling, the birds chirping, and the faint sounds of a plane flying by._

"_When I was younger, my classmates would make fun of my initials because they don't make a word like the rest of theirs did." It was true; the kids would go around, asking what sort of cool words they could make with just their initials. Emmy could only make J.E.S., which didn't sound like a word at all. _

"_It can't be that bad Emmy. It's not like you had P.O.O as your initials." A friendly glare and Neal continued, "Wait… Don't tell me. Your initials are E.E.W. Did they run around in a circle, yelling "EEW?"_

_Emmy splashed Neal with the cold lake water and said, "Shut up. My name isn't that bad. It's Emilia Jane Salgado. E.J.S doesn't sound cool, like A.C.T. or L.E.T."_

"_Emilia Jane… It has a nice ring to it."_

"_What about your middle name? I'm sure it's fancy, like Walter." Neal crinkled his nose at the thought of being named Walter. It had a stuffy feel to it, like the person who was unlucky enough to be called that was obnoxious and tight lipped. Neal would hate to be called that. Sure, it sounded fancy, but sometimes fancy was a bad thing. Sometimes you needed something a little different, like Dwight._

_Neal laughed and said, "It's actually Everett. My grandmother had bad luck with her two husbands. My full name is Nick Everett Affaria Langley. It's too long to say so I just shortened it to Nick Everett."_

"_N.E.A.L… It's a nice name. Better than Emilia Jane." She made a face when she said her name, as if she wanted to be someone else. If you asked her two years ago, she would have said that she would love to be someone else, living a life that wasn't hers. But now that she finally had someone that understood her and someone she could talk to about anything and get a true answer from… now she wouldn't dare change a thing._

"_Emilia Jane is a beautiful name. It suits you." Neal said as he made the final touches to his drawing. It looked impeccable as always, but today… it seemed more spectacular. Neal would always remember this day, no matter what happened in his life to make it unbearable. _

WCWCWCWCWC

**(Hours later in the same day…)**

_When night had fallen, Neal made a point to make sure Emmy got home safe. Ever since he learned about her father, he made sure that she was well taken care of. Neal knew that she would never do it, but he told her that his house was always open to her if she needed a place to stay. _

_After walking her home, Neal began his journey to his own house. Emmy lived closer to town than he did so it would take him a few minutes to reach his welcome abode. His house was on the outskirts of town, surrounded by woods. Roy had taken him into the woods sometimes, hunting rifles in hand. They would hunt for animals, small ones that wouldn't be noticed. _

_A few minutes had passed before Neal made it to his house. Except something was wrong. All of the lights in the house were on, and Neal heard things being thrown inside. His pace quickened and when he opened the door, his mouth opened in shock._

_The living room was almost empty, as if everything that was worth something was packed away in a trunk. He went into Roy's room, where he saw the man packing different articles of clothing into a small trunk. The wall safe was partially open, as if someone was getting ready to run with its contents._

"_What are you doing?" Neal asked, a mix of confuse and anger on his face. If Roy was doing what he thought he was doing, than things would become difficult. Extremely difficult. _

_Roy had obviously not noticed his presence because when Neal spoke he stopped what he was doing and looked at him, an unsure look in his eyes. Clearly he thought that Neal would be home much later than he was. "I hate to break it to you Nick, but we're leaving here pretty soon."_

'_Pretty soon? What does that even mean?' Neal asked himself. He refused to believe it. He didn't want to leave, not yet. He had spent nearly every day of this summer at the lake, with a girl that he knows he won't be able to find again, and Roy just expects him to drop everything and leave?_

_Once he found his voice, Neal asked, "Why?"_

_Roy sighed and sat down on his bed. He placed his hands on the bed, unsure of how to explain it to Neal. He finally looked up and said, "People are getting suspicious of us Nick. They don't trust us, and I'm beginning to think that maybe it's a good time for us to blow this small town and search for a bigger one. You know, like New York or something."_

"_I…I don't want to leave Roy. I've finally found someone I can…" _'Someone I can relate to.' _Neal left the sentence unfinished, not wanting to tell Roy about Emmy. He would chastise him for spreading roots in a town that they both knew they wouldn't be in for long. _

"_Who? That girl… what's her name again? Emilia?"_

_Neal's mouth opened to say something but nothing came. So he closed it. How did Roy know about her? Had he been following them? _

"_People talk Nick. Pretty much all of town knows that you and her have been disappearing everyday to god knows where, doing god knows what. I won't have that kind of talk surrounding you." Neal scrunched his face in confusion. _'I didn't even know there was talk.' _Neal mused. He barely talked to the other kids when he saw them. The only person he really talked to was Emmy, and she wasn't too fond of the other kids either._

"_But…" Neal said, pouting a little bit. Neal was just getting used to Salem, the quaint feel of the town made him feel peaceful and calm. Something he needed to start over. He wasn't ready to leave, not now. He had yet to make an impact on the town, something he had wanted to do since the start._

"_No buts, Nick. We're leaving in a week." Roy didn't know what had gotten into Neal. He knew that the kid liked the town they were staying in, but he had no idea that he would get so attached to it. _

"_That's when school starts Roy. You can't really expect me to not go to high school." The kid had a point. Everyone should get a chance to go to high school, even if they weren't all there mentally. Roy could remember his high school days. Granted, they weren't as good as he would have liked, but they were good all the same. The people, the teachers… It was nice. _

_A sigh escaped Roy's lips before he hung his head and rubbed a hand over his face. It would be difficult getting Neal into the school without his papers from his old school in Boston. Difficult, but not impossible. He looked up and said, "Fine. But we're going to have to forge your papers. Think you're up to it?"_

_An excited smile was on Neal's face as he nodded. It was a win-win situation. Neal would get to go to high school with Emmy and he would learn how to forge school papers. It should be a fun experience._

_Roy stood and said, "Get that smirk off of your face and go get the materials."_

_Neal's smile only grew as he turned to go in search of the things necessary to forge the papers. He wouldn't know it then, but this would be the best decision he would make in a long time._

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	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes: I just realized.. I apologize a lot here. I'll try to keep that to a minimum. haha.. well enjoy!**

**I own nothing!  
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><p>Roy leaned up against the roof of the federal building, enjoying the nighttime view it had. He knew he was being selfish by not giving up the money for Neal, but what else was he going to do? He sure as hell didn't want to go to prison, where his father friend's would no doubt kill him, and he didn't want to tell Burke the truth either.<p>

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. There was no possible way out that included him getting away scot free. But then again, there really was no such thing as getting away clean. No matter what you did, there was always some evidence of you left behind at the scene. Unless you wore a full body suit that left no prints and shed no follicles, you never really got away clean.

Roy had charmed his way out of the 21st floor, where Burke was assembling his team, and onto the roof, where he could think in peace. He didn't tell anyone where he was going, and they didn't ask. They probably just assumed that he was in the bathroom or something. At least that's what Roy thought.

"Mind if I join you?" He looked back to find Peter waiting at the door, a curious look in his eyes. Roy nodded and looked back at the scenery, not caring if the fed wanted to join him or not.

Peter walked over to where he was and smiled at the view the federal building gave of the city. "What an amazing view."

"Must be nice waking up to this every day." Roy said, and it took a minute for Peter to realize that he was talking about Neal and his million dollar view of Manhattan.

"Yeah. I almost couldn't believe it at first. But there he was, sipping Italian Roast. He sure knows how to live the good life, even if it wasn't his to begin with." Peter says. He can tell that Neal didn't have the best childhood. He can see it in his eyes when they're working a particularly hard case that just so happens to effect children.

Peter tries to hint at the questions that have been lurking at the back of his mind all day, but Roy either doesn't want to answer or he doesn't hear them. He is focused on the building adjacent to them, watching as the light from traffic reflects onto the building.

"I don't have it."

Peter gives Roy a quizzical look and says nothing. He isn't sure if he's talking about the good life that Neal has tried so hard to achieve, or the money that will save Neal's life.

"The money." Roy clarifies. "I don't have it." He digs out his phone and shows Peter the text. It's from an unknown number, but the message is clear. It says that all of his money has been transferred to an offshore account that he's never heard off.

Peter takes a closer look at the message and frowns. With the money gone, the drop will become difficult. Much more difficult than Peter ever imagined.

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Neal wakes to a searing pain in both his shoulder and on his chest. It's getting harder and harder to breathe and he can't help but feel as if the room he's trapped in is getting smaller and smaller. He shuts his eyes against the pain and forces himself to calm down before he does something that can't be reversed.

The chair he is tied to have been put back up, but it is now on uneven ground. The chair wobbles back and forth, annoying Neal to no end. He struggles against his bonds, knowing that it will get him nowhere. He doesn't want to escape; no… he needs to escape. Even if it means hurting himself, Neal will escape. He might die in the process, but Neal knows that if he stays here it will lead to his death. He would rather die because of his injuries than to die at the hands of his enemies.

His hands have been viciously tied behind his back, straining his wounded shoulder. He holds back a wince every time he tries to slip the frustrating zip ties. He stops for a moment, trying to put the pain that comes from escaping into intervals. Neal finally seems to notice the table that is just out of his reach. There's a bloody knife on the table, and an idea starts to form in Neal's mind. He smirks. Neal knows that he will get out of here soon and it will be like he was never there in the first place.

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Peter paces his office, wondering just how the hell they were going to pull 100 grand out of their butts. They surely couldn't ask Hughes… the man would force the case over to Ruiz and they would never see Neal alive again. Ruiz was one of the unfortunately many agents that didn't like Neal and Peter doubted that he would even care that the con was missing. All he cared about was a conviction. It was one of the many reasons why Peter didn't like him.

After their conversation on the roof, Roy is deposited into the interrogation room for safe keeping. What Peter doesn't know is that the man who he thought was safely locked up in interrogation was actually sitting at Neal's desk, going through the chaotic mess trying to find god knows what. Peter only realizes this when he looks over at Neal's desk, seeing Roy with his feet upon the desk, a position Neal often did to Peter's desk.

Peter can't help but think that there was more to Roy and Neal's relationship, as if there was some main piece of information he was missing. He doesn't dare ask him, he isn't bold enough for that. Peter is a patient man. He will wait for the right moment to come, rather than jeopardize everything by being bold.

He doubts that Neal will give him a straight answer if and when Peter asks the question that has been looming in his mind for days, weeks even. All he knows is that a falling out happened, not why or how… He just knows it happened. Peter wants to know the details, so he'll know how to prevent it from happening to their partnership. He glances over at Roy with an intrigued gaze, the man unaware of just what comes out of that gaze.

Peter knows that what Roy and Neal had wasn't a partnership. He can't picture a teenage Neal, matching wits with Roy as they forged and stole paintings. No… It wasn't like that. What Peter pictures is this: an uncertain Neal, still trying to find himself in the world, and a maniacal, thieving Roy, trying to manipulate Neal into going under his thumb. Peter doesn't know what to call it; it definitely wasn't a mentor/teacher relationship. Or a father/son relationship. He doesn't know what to think, and that bothers him to no end.

Peter hopes that soon all of the answers will come. Hopefully they will come from Neal, and they'll be honest. '_Honesty… That's it!'_ Peter finally sees a way out of the mess that he's gotten into and he can't be anymore happy about it.

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Neal takes one last look at the knife on the table and the locked door before he moves his plan into action. He takes a deep breath, knowing that whatever he's got planned will hurt. He starts by yelling. Yelling words that are incoherent to his own ears, but are loud enough to be heard through the door. When no one comes, Neal begins to rock the chair back and forth, and side to side, making a screeching sound that would make anyone's ears bleed.

He yells a couple more times until his voice is hoarse. He coughs and coughs and coughs. He's desperate for a glass of water, but no one seems to hear his cries for help. The chair still wobbles and soon it falls over…again. Unfortunately, Neal lands on his injured shoulder. He is unable to suppress the cry of pain that escapes his lips. He stays on the floor for a while, not bothering to try and get up. It will only cause pain. Pain he didn't need to be feeling right now.

WCWCWCWC

Peter races down the steps with a giant grin on his face. His idea is racing through his mind, just waiting to be shared. He stops at Neal's desk and he feels as if it's another day at the office, when Peter comes by Neal's desk with a new case in his hands and his lips tugged upwards into a smile. Except right now he's telling Roy about a plan to get Neal out of a prison.

Peter still holds a case file in his hands, but it's not Aldo's. It was a case he had solved with Neal, a couple of months ago. It was an extortion case against an adoption lawyer… whose name Peter is blanking out on. The lawyer was in debt to the Czech mob, so they had Neal go undercover as someone who could put him in even more debt. Neal ended up winning a lot of money in the illegal poker game. Money that could be used now. Sure it wasn't the same money, but 100 grand is still 100 grand no matter what the type of money.

"I don't know how you got out of interrogation and I don't care. I've got an idea."

"What did you have in mind?" Roy said as he pulled his feet off of the desk. He had been thinking about how Neal must feel about this job. He can sense that Peter cares about Neal, almost like a father would about his son. But there is doubt in Peter's eyes, as if he doubts whether or not he'll get Neal out of there alive.

Peter gestures to the case file in his hands, and say, "We had Neal go undercover a while back and he managed to win us a lot of money in an illegal poker game. We can use the money to get him back." The idea came to him when he was thinking about honesty. Back when they were solving the extortion case, he had told Neal, _"These guys can spot a cheat. You're going to have to beat them honestly."_ Neal had only smiled and said, _"I can do honest."_

"That's a good idea and everything but, how are we going to track it? We can't tail him, Aldo will notice." Roy said. He didn't want to risk it. For all he knew if Aldo realized that someone was tailing him, he would no doubt send an order to kill Neal.

"I can put a tracker on the briefcase. It will lead us directly to where Neal is." Peter said; glad to be talking through his plan. It was like talking with Neal about his thoughts on a case, except different. He was talking with a man whom he didn't particularly like, about a plan that would get a certain conman they both cared about out free.

"Let's do it."

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After what seems like an hour but is really only about twenty minutes, someone finally comes to the door. They open a latch on the door and they peer through it. Neal coughs and strains to look up at them. It's Mauro and he looks fairly alive. Sure, he's nursing a black eye, but he's alive. Neal had thought he was the one who had gotten shot when he heard the shots in the trunk.

"What do you want Caffrey?" Mauro asked. He wanted this lying sack of shit out of his hair for good. He didn't care if Neal knew where the money was, all he wanted was for him to be gone.

"A number of things actually. I've always wanted my own house on the shore… maybe you can start with that?"

Mauro's eyes narrowed and he turned away from the door. He didn't have to take this, especially from a conman like Caffrey. Neal sighed and said, "Wait! I want to talk to Vincenzio."

"And why should I let you do that?"

Neal gave him a look and said, "Do you want to come in here and pick me back up?"

Mauro sighed and said, "I'll be right back Caffrey. And I swear if you're planning something… It won't end well for you."

"I kind of figured that." Neal said under his breath, but Mauro had already left in search for Vincenzio.

He heard Mauro shout something in Italian, it sounded like, "_ehi Vince,__il prigioniero__vuole vederti__!_" But Neal wasn't sure. His shoulder was still aching, little waves of pain came coursing through everytime Neal shifted on the floor.

Vincenzio sat by the door, hands clasped together tightly, as if he was thinking deeply about something important. His thoughts were interrupted when Mauro yelled, "_Hey Vince, the prisoner wants to see you!_"

He sighed and made his way over the bulky man in desperate need of a shower. Vincenzio couldn't wait to get out of here, he had other things on his mind, things that were much more important than some missing money. He knew that he had practically saved the conman's life by suggesting that they make a ransom video, but that didn't meant they were going to be friends.

"_What did he ask for?"_ He asked in Italian.

"_All he wanted was to speak to you. Nothing more._" Mauro didn't bother telling him that the chair had flipped over again, if anything the filfthy excuse for a con deserved the pain he was getting. He had traded his life of crime for what? Two miles of freedom and an unlimited amount of Feds surrounding him? Any reasonable criminal would have chosen prison over snitching on their friends. But then again, Caffrey wasn't your normal criminal.

Rumor had it that he had stolen treasure that the world hasn't seen before. It was locked away, on some German boat or something... and somehow, even with the Feds breathing down his neck, he managed to steal it away. He knew Caffrey was a good theif, but was he really this good?

Vincenzio nodded and entered the chamber with a water bottle in his hands. He knew that the Feds wouldn't like it if they harmed him, and they would like it even less if he wasn't taken care of. Upon entering the chamber, Vincenzio noticed that Caffrey was lying on his side, the chair was flipped over as well. Vincenzio sighed and made a mental note to punish Mauro later.

"What do you want Caffrey?" He asked, slightly annoyed. He had other more important things to do than to take care of an injured conman.

"Picking me up would be nice." Neal said as he strained to look at Vincenzio. Now that Neal had a better look at him, he realized that the man looked oddly familiar. Neal didn't know where, but he knew that he had definitely seen the man before. But where?

Vincenzio put the water bottle aside and picked the chair holding Neal up. He wiped the dust off of his hands, and said, "You wanted to speak with me?"

"I was wondering why you stuck your neck out for me back there. I would have thought you of all people would want me dead." Neal said. Sure, he was grateful that they didn't kill him, but it still made him curious. Normally the man who's fault losing the money was, was the most furious and the most bloodthirsty.

"Maybe I just don't want to go to jail for murder." Vincenzio had a point. Not every criminal had a thing for murder. Neal was one of them. But he got the feeling that Vincenzio had killed before. Whether it was self-defense or murder, Neal wasn't sure.

"But you're willing to go to jail for kidnapping a federal employee?"

"Federal employee my ass. You're a conman in Suit clothes." Now that stung a bit. Sure, Neal was getting used to be called a snitch, but that didn't mean it stung any less. He hated being compared to Peter and the rest of the team. But he couldn't really do anything to stop the talk that was centering around him at the office.

"I take offense to that. I only wear the finest Italian suits."

"You know what I mean Caffrey. They've got you under their thumb... they control every aspect of your life, hell they even track where you're going! Tell me that doesn't bother you." Vincezio said, his tone filled with curiousity and anger. He didn't know how Caffrey could work for the feds. The betrayal, the hours, being completely surrounded by Feds all day, everyday... He wondered how the con dealt with it all.

"And what if it does? Why does that matter to you?" Sure, it bothered Neal from time to time, but he knew that what he had with Peter was better than prison. Anything was better than prison.

"Just forget I said anything."

"You want to get out of the business, don't you?" Judging by the look on Vincenzio's face, Neal knew he had hit a nerve. A nerve that was just itching to be poked again. Neal continued, "You thought it would do you good, getting you're very own spot in the family... Getting away from your own. But now you can't stop thinking about the past. And now it's haunting you. Haunting you to the point that-" He was cut off by a punch to his face. Neal knew that he had it coming. But it was worth it. After all, he did just find a way to get out.

After punching him in the face, Vincenzio immediately grabbed the gun that was in his holster and points it directly at Neal's face. He glares at Neal and says, "Don't talk like you know what I've been through. You don't know anything about me."

It was true. Caffrey knew nothing about what he's been through, what he's been doing for the past 3 years. Vincenzio knew what he was doing, and there was no way that he was going to let some snitch for the F.B.I tell him otherwise.

He banged on the door, a signal that he was done talking with Neal. Mauro opened the door after a few tense seconds of silence passed. Vincenzio stormed out of the chamber and didn't stop walking until he was outside of the warehouse. He pulled out his cell phone, punched in a number and dialed.

The person picked up on the second ring. "Ruiz, we've got a problem." Vincenzio said as he continued walking away from the warehouse.

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	10. Chapter 10

It was early morning when Peter arrived at the office. He didn't get a good nights' sleep last night, but that's to be expected when Neal is missing and Elle is gone. Peter is sitting in his office, going over the plans for the ransom meeting. He had called Hughes late last night, telling him that whoever had Neal demanded 100 grand and that they were going through with the deal with the rest of the money Neal won from the adoption fraud case.

Peter left out some of the more major details, like who had taken Neal, but only because Peter thought that it would be better said in person than over the phone. After all, he had interrupted Hughes' so called date night with his wife. He didn't want to ruin it further.

After a few minutes, someone knocked on Peter's door and opened it a fraction. It was Hughes, and he didn't look happy. Peter frowned and motioned for his boss to come in.

Before Peter could do or say anything, Hughes interrupted. He said, "Peter when were you going to tell me that Benedict Aldo kidnapped Caffrey?"

"I was going to tell you Hughes... honest." And he was... just not last night, when the case could easily be transferred to Organized Crime. Peter would rather let all of the criminal's he's collared go than let Ruiz have this case. Ruiz made Peter's skin crawl. Something was not right about that man...

"Damn... This is bad."

"What do you mean by that Hughes? How did you find out?" He was more than curious to know how Hughes found out about the kidnappers. Peter had just found about it a while ago.

"I got a call from Ruiz. Apparently they have a guy deep undercover in the syndicate. He says that Neal is fine..." Peter had an idea of whom the undercover might be. Ryan Valastro. He was the man who had torn apart the lounge, screaming about the lack of trust. He was... a bit shady. A bit too shady for Peter's liking. Were all the guys from Organized Crime this bad?

Peter didn't speak. Probably because he was too busy holding back his anger. There was no way in hell that Neal was okay. Unless you count getting shot and slashed by a crazy mobster okay. Why couldn't they accept the fact that Neal was in danger?

"He also said that all of this, the disk, the ransom... he says that this is all a con derived by Caffrey in order to scam the Bureau into giving him money. Money he can use to flee the country." Hughes hated seeing Peter like this. He hated having to speak these words to him, but Burke had the right to know. Peter needed to know the truth about Caffrey before things take a turn for the worse. Preferably before Peter tries to go and rescue him.

"Reese that can't be possible. We saw him on the DVD... He got slashed... he was shot Reese!"

Hughes bit back a sigh and turned away from Peter. He knew the Agent cared about Caffrey, a little too much for his liking, but this was too much. Way too much. There was a line between caring for someone and being obsessed with them. Obsessed with the prospect of changing them. Peter tried to care for Neal, tried to help him, but in the end Hughes knew that it would come down to a betrayal. And that betrayal would lead to things that Hughes wasn't ready for.

Hughes finally turned back to Peter. He said,"You think I don't know that Peter? I know you're concerned about him Peter, but you have to stop and think about it. Neal Caffrey is a conman... an opportunist. Do you really think he would pass up a chance to con the Bureau? Pass up a chance to make us all look like fools?"...Alright, Hughes had a point there. Sure, Neal was devious. Devious enough to send champagne to a surveillance van that was supposed to be tailing him. But Neal was not devious enough, not sneaky enough, to fake being kidnapped and beaten just for some money. Neal wasn't that dumb.

"Reese... I saw that look in his eyes. He was scared... petrified even. He was terrified Reese... you can't fake that. Even if you're Neal Caffrey." It was true. No one, not even a seasoned con man like Caffrey could fake being afraid. He could fake a lot of things, being in love, being angry... but Peter doubted that he could fake being afraid. There was nothing in the conman business that allowed for you to be afraid. It was all about confidence.

A sigh escaped Hughes lips before he decided. He said with a weary look on his face, "Alright fine. But if Caffrey is messing with us, it will be on your head. Peter I can't save you if this goes south."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

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Neal sat, sore, bleeding, and cold, in the warehouse. Vincenzio had left hours ago and Mauro had probably left as well. He wasn't sure about the man with the gun earlier, but Neal assumed that he was gone too. Maybe it was just the coldness of the room, but Neal felt alone. He felt truly alone. There was no Peter, no Mozzie to come and save him. There was definitely no more Alex. Not after what happened with Oswald. It was (hopefully) their final goodbye. And Neal doubted that Sara would come and rescue him. After all, he did try to con his way into her life in order to get a peak at the airplane recording device in the plane that Kate had died in.

The thoughts about Kate had left a sour feeling in his mouth, as if he had been eating sour patch kids for days on end. Neal finally pushed the thoughts aside, knowing it wouldn't do him any good to think about the past. He knows this, but he still finds himself thinking about the past... and how much it hurt.

He tries not to think about Emmy or Roy, but it's hard to not think about them when one of them is at fault for all of what has happened. Neal shouldn't be suprised. After what Roy did 13 years ago... after what he pulled... None of this should be suprising for Neal. But it is.

Maybe he thought that Roy had changed over the years... maybe Neal wanted to give Roy another chance... Whatever the reason, Neal is chastising himself for behaving this way. For actually believing that Roy cared about him. No matter what, Roy has always had an agenda. Always.

The only real reason why Roy took Neal in is because he knew Neal wanted to know about his father. He knew that Neal would do anything for information. Even submit to being his student. Neal looks back on that part of his life with disdain but he knows it's a wrong description of how he feels about it. He should hate it, hate it with all his guts, but he doesn't.

It was exciting... and if it wasn't for Roy he wouldn't be here, working with Peter. Doing what he loves. But then again... Neal wouldn't be here, trapped like an animal, if it wasn't for Roy. Neal barked out a laugh. He should stop kidding himself. He knew that he liked living with Roy. He actually liked it. He liked spending time with him... having Roy teach him the ropes. Teaching him how to shoot a gun... It all added up in the end.

Neal should hate the man, but everything he is, is because of Roy. An excelent conman, an artist, an international art thief, a forger...a killer... the list goes on. He finds himself wondering where he would be if he hadn't run away... if he hadn't turned his back on her. '_There's no use thinking about the past anymore... after all it is just the past._' Neal mused as he tugged involuntary at his bonds. He sighs. All he wants is to be back in his bed at June's, sleeping for days. But Neal knows that it won't come soon.

WCWCWCWC

It was getting close to noon, and everyone was ready for the sting. Roy was getting briefed about the situation by Diana, and Peter was looking around the surveillance cameras for any sign of Aldo. He finally spotted him sitting on a bench, calmly feeding the birds. He was wearing a dark navy blue suit and he wore dark sunglasses.

"You ready for this?" Peter asked as Roy walked towards where he sat. He was hoping that all would go according to their plan, that everything would go smoothly, but he couldn't help but think that something would go wrong. Maybe it was just because Neal's life was at stake... Peter wasn't sure. What he was sure of though, was that they were going to get Neal back.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Roy said with a smirk. He knew he was risking a lot by being here, but Neal needed it. What sort of mentor would Roy be if he didn't show up to save his student once in a while?

"Don't do anything stupid... Make the deal and walk away. We'll handle the rest." Peter said with a tint of concern in his eyes. He knew that if anything went wrong, if they screwed the pooch in anyway possible, that more than Neal's life would be at stake. Peter's career would most likely be over if this went wrong. He took a chance on Neal, (one he would gladly make again) and he didn't want it to be a mistake.

"Don't worry Burke, I've been in more than one takedown in my life." His comment didn't make much sense to Peter, but he smiled anyways. The man was never arrested before, (or maybe his record was expunged) so the way it sounded made it seem like he was a part of the government once. Whatever it was, Peter was glad that Roy knew what he was doing.

Just then a figure sauntered into the abandoned building they were using as headquarters. The figure was considered an unwelcome guest in Peter's mind, but he didn't throw him out. A grim smile appeared on Peter's face as he said, "So glad you could make it Ruiz."

Roy looked Ruiz up and down, sizing him up it seemed. The man oozed both shadyness and smugness, a combination that was bound to cause some discomfort in the Bureau. Even Roy could sense the disgust in Ruiz's eyes. Roy was sorely tempted to tease the man, but somehow he knew that it wouldn't end well. So he decided to be the bigger man and introduce himself civily to the Agent of Organized Crime.

"So you're Agent Ruiz. I've heard so much about you. The name's Roy Croft." He said with an elusive smirk on his face. He stuck out his hand, trying to be friendly with the sour faced Agent.

Ruiz just glared at the hand and turned to face Peter. He said, "You're actually going through with this Burke? Didn't Hughes tell you to back off?"

Ruiz wasn't sure what was worse, Caffrey or this older more impulsive version of him. At least Caffrey knew when to shut up. This one never knew when to stop. They both annoyed the hell out of him. Ruiz was glad that Caffrey had finally ran, but if he knew that it would bring along an older more talkative version of him... well he wouldn't have set things in motion.

"Like it or not, Caffrey is an asset to the Bureau. I'll do whatever I can to get him back Ruiz. If you don't like it you can leave." Peter never liked Ruiz. He always thought that he deserved better than anyone else in the Bureau, that he was a better investigator than the rest of them. It was annoying and Peter always felt a need to punch him in the face whenever he reared his ugly face.

"There's no way in hell I'm leaving this party Burke. Not until Aldo's in handcuffs."

"Then sit tight while us professionals do our work." Roy said, interrupting Peter and Ruiz's argument. He already had the fake Rolex on his wrist, one that would record the drop. Roy smirked at Ruiz and headed out the door.

They all turned to face their computer screens, watching as Roy made his way towards where Aldo was. He had a briefcase in one hand, the other one in his pants pocket. A smirk was still planted on his face when he approached Aldo, who was still sitting on the bench.

"It's nice to see you out and about Benedict."

"Same goes for you Daniel. I thought you weren't going to show."

"Where's Neal?" Roy said, wanting to be direct. He didn't have the time to dance around the subject like he normally would.

"Don't be so impaitient Daniel. Caffrey is safe. Do you have the money?"

"Of course I have the money." Roy says as he holds up the briefcase. Before Mauro can tale it from him, he continues. "The real question is, is Neal alive?"

"I came prepared. _Mostrargli la__fotografia._"(_Show him the picture_) Aldo motioned for Mauro to show Roy the picture. It was a picture of Neal, still tied up to the chair, with what seemed to be a newspaper on his lap. If Roy squinted, he could see the date. It was marked August 2, 2011. Neal eyes were somewhat glazed over, as if he was half asleep when the picture was taken. A shiver ran through Roy's body, but he did what he could to hide it.

Roy hands the briefcase to Mauro, who instantly opens it up. He sees the money and a calculated smirk appears on the henchmen's face. "Is it all there?" Aldo asks.

"You can count it if you want." Roy's voice crackled over the speakers in the building. All of the agents already had their bulletproof vests on, guns at the ready. That was their cue to storm the park and arrest Aldo. All of the agents, Ruiz included, raced out of the building.

"All teams go in!" Peter said over the walkie talkie that was attached to his belt. Peter had already told the team to let whoever had the briefcase in hand go, because it would lead them to where Neal was being held. It wasn't the perfect plan, but it was better than nothing. Peter didn't know how Ruiz would take this news, but Peter would deal with it when it came.

Suddenly a group of about 20 heavily armed men circled them (Peter and Ruiz included.). The letters on their vests were clearly labeled F.B.I. Aldo cursed and stood up. He glared at Roy and said, "You... You traitor." His hand wavered at the gun that was concealed underneath his suit but before he could draw it, several Agents had him surrounded.

After seeing the feds come out of the building adjacent from where they were standing, Mauro closed the briefcase and slowly started to walk away. Fortunately they didn't notice him walking away with the money. He stood at the edge of the crowd that was circling around the commotion, watching as his boss was led away in handcuffs by a very smug agent. Mauro frowned at the man, recognizing him to be Agent Ruiz of the F.B.I.

Roy watched as Ruiz cuffed Aldo. Peter was off somewhere, Roy didn't know where. He glanced over at the crowd that was watching them, and a smirk appeared on his face when he saw that Mauro had escaped with the briefcase. Their plan was coming along accordingly. Mauro met his gaze and he scowled. Roy's grin just grew and he winked at the mobster. Roy turned away from the crowd and went in search of Peter.

At first Roy didn't like Burke, he thought that he was a nuisance. But after Peter had showed him that he truly cared about Neal and not just his abilities as a con, Roy began to cooperate. He could see why Neal was so intent on staying here in New York. Roy found Peter after a few minutes of searching. He was in a deep conversation with Ruiz, arguing it seemed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Burke? You let Mauro disappear with the money!" Ruiz said, furious. Aldo was already in cuffs, on his way back to the federal building. He would be interrogated there. Ruiz didn't even notice Mauro's disappearance, until one of the other agents had told him.

"Maybe if you were there for the briefing, you would have known that it was a part of our plan. The briefcase is fitted with a GPS transmitter that will lead us to where Caffrey is."Peter said, clearly not wanting to deal with the arrogant agent. Ruiz stalked off after that, headed to god knows where.

A sigh of relief escaped Peter's lips at Ruiz's departure. Peter was relieved that the smug bastard was finally out of their hair. It meant that he could now focus everything he had on finding and saving Neal. He glanced over at Roy, who was standing nearby. When he first met Roy, he had instantly thought of sending the man to prison. Not because the man was a prime suspect in the embezzlement scam, but because of what he did to Neal. Peter didn't know the specifics, but he knew enough to know that whatever happened to the two of them... well it wasn't good.

WCWCWCWC

Someone barged through the door, anger pulsing through his steps. It was none other than Mauro, and he looked pissed off. Like he had just been fired from his job. It was most likely Neal's fault, but it's not like he could do anything about it now. All he could do was hope that Mauro didn't injure his already bruised body.

He was greeted with a punch to the face. After his fist collided with Neal's face, Mauro said, "You son of a bitch. I told you this was going to end badly if you were up to something."

Caffrey made him sick. It was sickening to watch him desperately try to con his way out of this. The man needed to be put out of his misery... It would be better for all of them if he just disappeared into the dust. The feds made him soft, too soft. There was a point in time for all criminals when the job was done for good. Either you finish the job, or it finishes you. Simple as that.

"I didn't do anything." Mauro snorted inwardly and frowned at the con. He just never stopped lying. As if he was going to believe that Caffrey just sat here while Aldo and Adriano got arrested. The con was involved... somehow. Mauro didn't care how, or why, all he cared about now was getting away with both the money and his freedom.

"Oh just shut up. I know how you work Caffrey, I won't let you con your way into escaping."

"I've been tied here all day Mauro. I couldn't possibly do anything to harm you." Whatever Mauro thought he did must have been bad... otherwise he wouldn't have furiously stormed in here. Neal put on a mask of confusion on his face because Neal knew that if he acted smug, like he had succeeded in pulling the wool over Mauro's eyes he would most likely get bludgened to death.

"You called the Feds! I don't know how, but I know you did. And now Aldo is paying the price."

"He got arrested?" Neal said in disbelief. He knew that Peter was looking into his kidnapping, but the news that they had Aldo in custody was good. It made it one step easier for Neal to escape.

"Of course he did Caffrey. Don't act like you don't know. I know that all of this was a part of your plan."

"Care to elaborate?" Neal asked. He wanted to know the details about the arrest so he could successfully use it to maniuplate his escape.

Mauro snorted and said, "No. You know full well what happened down at the meet. And now you're going to pay."

WCWCWCWCWCWC

Peter sat at his desk, watching his computer screen. He had the GPS transmitter pulled up on the screen and he was watching as the green blip made it's way towards the docks. There were a lot of abandoned warehouses down by the docks, and that meant a lot of ground to cover.

Finally the green blip stopped. It stopped at one of the warehouses that were assumedly abandoned. He made a note of the address and a satisfactory grin made its way onto his face. He was getting closer and closer to saving Neal. He just hoped that they would get there in time.

WCWCWCWCWCWC

"_No. You know full well what happened down at the meet. And now you're going to pay."_

Those words rang through Neal's mind as Mauro reached for the knife that lay on the dusty floor. Neal struggled against his bonds, pushing harder then ever before, knowing that if he didn't then for sure Mauro would kill him. He had to get away, he had to—

Neal's thoughts were interrupted by yet another punch to the face. Neal's head whipped to the side upon the impact, and he could feel the blood in his mouth. It hurt more than it should have, but that was only because Mauro was wearing rings on almost all of his fingers. Mauro had a devious grin on his face, as if he took pleasure in beating Neal up. He began to circle Neal, as if wondering where he should begin in his torture.

Finally after what seemed like days of struggling, the zip ties that were tying Neal down came loose. He had been twisting and rubbing them against the back of the chair he was in. His hands were tied behind his back, making his injured shoulder ache infinitely. Neal made sure that Mauro didn't notice his new freedom, wanting to suprise the man.

Mauro stopped circling and moved towards Neal, knife in hand. He placed the knife right below his gunshot wound. Mauro slowly rotated the blade, aiming to make Neal scared. Neal wouldn't admit it to the world, but what Mauro was doing was somewhat scaring him. Just knowing that in an instant Mauro could end his life was scary. He didn't want to die... not yet at least.

Neal swallowed uncertaintly and clenched his fists. He had to pull it together, otherwise he would be a dead man. He steeled his nerves and lunged at Mauro, hoping that the knife didn't cause too much damage to his body. It plunged itself right in the bullet hole in his shoulder, but Neal pushed past the pain, knowing that he couldn't give up now.

He cried out in pain but continued all the same. He managed to get Mauro on the ground, but that was it. Malnutrition made his body and mind weak, and it made it almost impossible to hold his grip on Mauro. It didn't help that the man repeatedly punched him in the face while he held on for dear life.

Mauro was suprised at Neal's sudden outburst, but he soon got the upper hand. He punched at Neal's head and face repeatedly, making sure to use his ring bearing hand. After about five punches or so, (Neal lost count) Neal's grip on Mauro loosened and Mauro easily escaped it. He's breathing deeply, somewhat out of breath, but other than that he is unharmed.

Neal tries to stand, tries to get some common ground, but his vision swims and he sinks to the ground. The knife if still lodged in his body, but Neal doesn't dare take it out, not knowing if it will help or just kill him faster. Mauro takes advantage of his weakness and he promptly kicks Neal in the stomach.

Neal lies on the dusty floor, shutting his eyes against the pain. It's getting harder and harder to breathe with every kick Mauro deals to his stomach. He hopes that it will stop soon, but it doesn't. It seems to go on forever and Neal can hope that this torture will stop soon. It doesn't. In fact, it only gets worse.

When Neal hears the crack, all of the breath leaves his lungs and soon he is gasping for air. It is a horrible feeling, one that he has only felt once before. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but Neal can remember it like it was yesterday.

Coughing hard now, Neal looks up at Mauro, who has stopped assaulting him with deadly blows. He has a grim expression on his face, one that makes Neal worry. He's staring at the door, with a glare that can only be described as deadly. Before Neal can do anything though, he hears something. It's a welcome sound that makes him smile in relief.

"F.B.I! Freeze!"


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Notes: Okay I lied. You guys are getting all of your answers next chapter. Because I did not want this chapter to go over 8,000 words. It's about 7,125 or so without the a/n's. Oh yeah and soccer season is starting for me (and school, yuck!) so I don't know when I'll be able to update... But I will find the time, don't you worry.

Edit (9-23-11) There is just a tiny bit in this I feel like correcting. It's when Chase is explaining all of Neal's injuries. It was bothering me.

* * *

><p>Peter had gotten ready in what seemed like record time. He had everything he needed to storm the warehouse where Neal was being held. His bulletproof vest was strapped on tight, his gun was holstered at his side and the SWAT team was in place. All they were waiting for was Peter's okay and they would break down the warehouse door.<p>

"All teams move in!" the SWAT leader said, his voice crackling over the radio. The SWAT members went in first, with Peter and Diana following after. Their approach was silent, Peter didn't want any of the mobsters inside to be aware of them and get trigger happy.

The breach was going along perfectly. The warehouse was dusty, but there were places that the dust was disturbed. Peter followed the trail, his gun at the ready. There were many peculiar sounds; ones that made Peter frown with indifference. It was a thudding noise, it sounded like someone was repeatedly dropping a rather heavy book over and over again. What Peter didn't know was that thudding noise was because of the scuffle in the chamber.

He inched closer and closer to the door where he believed the noises were coming from, motioning over one of the SWAT members whose name had escaped him for the moment. Peter ran a hand over the cold metallic door, letting the particles of rust coat his hands. He knew that it would be no easy feat to knock the door down, but he had to get inside somehow…

Peter finally seemed to notice the latch on the door and, after glancing at the man beside him, opened it. It takes all Peter has not to call out, because damn it, Neal was in there! And he didn't look good.

There was what looked like dried blood all over the walls, and Peter glanced down at his hand to make sure that it was indeed rust on it and not dried blood. Thankfully it was just rust. Looking back inside, Peter notices that Mauro is standing over Neal, who is lying on his side away from the door.

Peter can't help but wince quietly when Mauro kicks Neal in the stomach repeatedly. After about 7 kicks or so though, Mauro stops and Neal turns on his back, gasping for breath. His face is covered with ugly bruises and his blue eyes seem to shine with pain. Peter looks at Mauro, who has finally noticed the two federal Agents standing in the doorway. He's glaring at them both, his hand inching towards the gun, which lies abandoned on the table beside him.

It is then when Peter decides to bring his weapon up and yell, "F.B.I! Freeze!"

Neal turns towards the door, smiling in relief. He's happy that Peter finally managed to find him, but then again, the agent had a knack for finding him when no one else could. It was both a blessing and a curse. He sees the worried look in Peter's eyes, the look that makes him wonder just what he's worrying about, -him or the man behind him, most likely wielding a weapon-.

"Drop your weapon Mauro! It won't end well for you if you don't." Peter called out, the barrel of his gun visible in the latch's opening. He's using the large metal door as cover, if Mauro decides to go out in a hail of bullets. Neal hopes that he'll surrender and use the easy way out, but somewhere in the back of his mind Neal knows that that's what Mauro's plan is.

It all happens in a flash. A series of gunshots echo throughout the room, and only a few make their mark. Most of Mauro's shots ricochet off the door and onto the floor. One however, ricochets off the door hinge and hit Neal in the leg. His cry of pain went unheard as both Peter and Mauro emptied their clips.

The gun fire is over as quick as it started. Mauro lies on top of Neal, dead. Neal tries to move but his body protests. His leg feels like its on fire, and the fact that he cannot get any air to his lungs is more than displeasing. Peter is at his side in an instant and he pulls the now dead Mauro off of him. It doesn't help much.

Peter had all but thrown the door down to get to where Neal was. He pulled Mauro's dead body off of him, unaware of the bullet hole in Neal's leg. When he noticed however, he instantly placed both of his hands firmly on the wound, applying as much pressure as he could manage.

Neal moaned in protest and said, "Peter…"

"I know it hurts Neal, but I have to keep pressure on it."Peter said, trying to console the man in front of him. He turned his head away from Neal and yelled out, "We need some help in here!"

Neal tried to say more, but he soon erupted in a series of coughs and started to gasp for air. His eyes started to close and Peter tried to keep him awake by calling his name over and over again. It didn't work. "Where the hell is the ambulance?" Peter yelled.

Diana came rushing in, with two paramedics behind her. She stepped away and let the medics take charge. One of them, a woman with long blonde hair that was pulled tightly back in a ponytail, put a hand on Peter's shoulder and said, "Sir, you need to move out of the way."

Peter hesitated but moved to the side, where he could watch as the medics began working on his friend. The woman felt for a pulse as the other, a male with a buzz cut, cut away what little remained of Neal's shirt. Peter winced at the sight of the bruises that were all over Neal's torso. It was worse than he had imagined it to be. He knew that Neal was injured, had knew it from the start, but he didn't know that it was this bad.

"His pulse is dropping; he might have punctured a lung… We've got to get him out of here." The blonde medic said as a frown appeared on her face. The two instantly strapped Neal to a backboard and then a gurney. The remaining agents found themselves pushed back as the medics wheeled him out of the rust colored chamber.

Peter had to sprint to catch up. When they made it to the ambulance that had been waiting for them, Peter asked, "Where are you taking him?"

"Lenox Hill sir. Now we've really got to get going if you don't mind." The woman said, as she helped put the gurney in the ambulance. Peter nodded his ascent and allowed the two to continue working. He knew that Neal was now in good hands. He gave a look to Diana, who held a relieved smile on her face. She was glad that Neal was back with them and not suffering here anymore. She said, "Go on, I'll finish up here and meet you later."

WCWCWCWC

The ride to the hospital was quick, but not memorable. Peter barely remembered driving there in the first place. He paced the floor of the ER waiting room, having been told numerous times by the sympathetic nurse at the desk that there was nothing he could to but wait for Neal to get out of surgery.

He finally rubbed a hand over his face after what he thought was the 4 hour mark of his stay. He had gotten tired of pacing, so he decided to sit down in one of the infamously uncomfortable chairs. Peter held his head in his hands, exhaustion of the past couple of days catching up to him. He had only sat down for a few minutes before he heard someone say, "Peter?"

He looked up, a shocked expression on his face. It was El. "Hon what are you doing here?" He asked. She was supposed to be in San Francisco for an exclusive event, not here in New York.

"I just got back. I tried calling you while I was at the airport but you didn't answer." Peter stood and instantly reached for his phone, which was on silent in his pocket. He had 3 missed calls, all of them coming from his wife.

"So you called Diana…."

"Peter why didn't you tell me that Neal got kidnapped?" Peter winced at Elizabeth's tone. He had meant to call her… he really did. But then everything happened, and before he knew it he was standing over Neal applying pressure to his wounds.

"I didn't want you to worry El; I thought I had it under control."

"Oh Peter…" She went up to him and locked him in a tight embrace. She eased up a few minutes later and glanced up at him. She said, "How bad is he?"

"I don't know… I think he's still in surgery."

"How long has he been in there?" Elizabeth asked, still locked in a hug with Peter. She squeezed his hand in an effort to release the fears she had.

"Too long unfortunately…" A new voice said. The two quickly parted as they saw a man in blue scrubs walk towards them. He had dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He had an Australian accent when he spoke. "You are Special Agent Burke, right?"

Peter nodded and put his hands on his hips. The doctor held a chart in his hands, one that Peter assumed was Neal's. "I'm Doctor Chase; I'm Neal's surgeon."

"How is he doing Dr.?" Elizabeth asked.

"He is currently being moved to the ICU as we speak actually."

A breathy sigh of relief came from Peter's lips. But before he could say anything, Dr. Chase spoke up. He said, "That being said Agent Burke, your friend is in no way out of the woods yet. The bullet in his leg nicked an artery, but we were able to repair the damage. The wound in his shoulder is a completely different story though. It was tricky but we were able to remove the bullet from Mr. Caffrey's shoulder. We have put him on antibiotics just in case of delayed infection." Chase flipped through the small stack of papers that was clipped onto the folder, looking for any further information that Peter needed to know about. He looked up after a few seconds and said, "Mr. Caffrey also had a punctured lung, due to the 3 broken ribs he has, but he has been put on a ventilator to help him breathe until the lung gets stronger. He also suffered a mild concussion, but until he wakes up we won't know how much damage it caused. "

Peter's breathing quickened as the doctor listed off Neal's injuries. He felt horrible for not being fast enough. Maybe if he got there earlier, then Neal would have been better. Neal would still be injured, but not as badly as he was now.

"When can we see him?" He asked, hoping that his voice didn't give away his guilt ridden thoughts. Peter could tell though, that Elizabeth knew. She knew him better then he thought she did.

"Right now if you'd like. He's in Room 326."

WCWCWCWC

The first thing Neal is aware of is the darkness. At first it's pleasing; he has always liked the different shades of his life, both light and dark. But then he starts to panic, because he's trapped here, in the middle of the darkness, where monsters and nightmares roam free.

But then Neal hears something. At first it's soft and he has to strain to hear it, but then it grows louder and more detailed. He cannot make head or tails of the song, but it is calming. Soon it calms him enough for him to sleep. Before long he is dreaming once again of the past.

* * *

><p><strong>(3 months into the school year, Neal and Emmy are freshmen in high school.)<strong>

_Neal taps his foot impatiently as the clock ticks on. He can't wait to leave and he keeps glancing at the clock every few seconds, as if it would magically speed up time. Tonight was the first home football game of the season, and Neal could not wait to go. He was normally against watching sports games, but no one really watched them anyways. It was a place where everyone could just sit and hang out with their friends. _

_Finally the bell rang, symbolizing the end of class for today. The teacher, who was trying to keep his student's attention by waving his arms around like a madman, said, "Don't forget about the Romeo and Juliet essay! It's due on Tuesday!"_

_Of course the reminder went unheard as the students filled out of the classroom. Before Neal could escape the classroom however, the teacher called out, "Nick! Can I talk to you for a minute?"_

_Neal quickly placed his binder in his bag and walked over to the teacher's desk. "You wanted to see me, sir?" _

_The teacher nodded, his curly brown hair flopping as he did so. He wore a gray and blue sweater-vest with a white long sleeved shirt underneath. His olive green eyes sparkled underneath his thick glasses. He said, "How is everything at home?"_

_Neal furrowed his brows in confusion. Why was his English teacher asking him about his home life? Neal knew that his grades weren't slipping and he hadn't let anything slip about his personal life… He put his hands in his pockets and said, "Its good… why do you ask?"_

_The teacher shrugged and said, "Just wondering… You've been distracted lately, and I was wondering why. But if everything is fine, then I guess I have nothing to worry about. Right?"_

_Neal only nodded and grabbed his backpack. As soon as he left the room though, he frowned and bit his lip. He hadn't thought his distractedness showed. He was distracted because of the men that Roy kept on bringing over. They were from the neighboring town of Peabody, and they were into paintings. They would come and go at odd times of the day, sometimes even in the middle of the night._

_Neal was pulled out of his thoughts by none other than Emmy. She had pulled on his black backpack, making him stop in his tracks. She had a grin on her face, making her whole face light up. She saw the expression on Neal's face though, and she instantly frowned. She put a hand on his arm and asked, "Is everything okay Nick?"_

"_It's nothing really…" He began, but he was quickly silenced by the look on Emmy's face. He didn't bother to hide it from her because he knew that Emmy would see through any lie he told. He sighed and told her the truth. He said, "My uncle has been bringing over a couple of friends of his...and well… "_

"_They're not your favorite bunch of people to be around?" Emmy said, with a half smile on her face. She really knew how to make him feel better. Emmy understood him better than anyone else he knew. Not even Roy knew him this well. He hadn't even tried._

_Neal nodded and continued down the main hallway with Emmy at his side. They had only been at school for 3 months or so, but they had already knew their schedule like the back of their hands. It had been the best three months of Neal's life._

* * *

><p><strong>(Hours Later…)<strong>

_Neal stood at the bottommost step of the bleachers, looking for some familiar faces. He had trouble convincing Emmy to come but in the end she said that she would meet him there after her father had passed out. He checked his watch yet again. It was 7:30._

_Sighing, Neal decided to explore the stands, hoping to find some people he could talk to. The game was against Peabody, one of the many rivals that Salem had. Some of the kids that were in the bleachers were people that Neal didn't recognize. He assumed that they were from Peabody, because everyone else around them were giving them glares._

_The kid in the middle of the group was particularly menacing. His stone cold gaze seemed to follow Neal wherever he went and his group of cronies tried to copy that look but failed epically. Neal, of course, put it to the back of his mind and focused on finding Emmy. _

_After a couple of minutes however, Neal gave up searching. Emmy had told him not to worry about her if she didn't show. Neal assumed that her father had decided to stay home for once, and that was what was keeping Emmy from showing up. _

_He leaned up against the railings, gazing out into the field. He heard a gaggle of giggles from behind him and it took everything he had to bite back a scowl. Numerous girls in the high school took notice of him as he walked the hallways, eyeing him like a piece of candy. It made him feel only a tad bit self-conscious, he was somewhat used to people fawning over him._

_Neal turned his head, hoping that someone he could talk to would show up. Unfortunately, one of the girls that had giggled at him obscured his view. She had done it intentionally of course, and was trying to get in his face. She said, "Hey there Nick. What are you doing here all alone?"_

_She had way too much makeup on, too much for Neal's liking. Her brown eyes was outlined with dark eyeliner and she reeked of expensive perfume. Her dark hair had blonde highlights in them, and it looked like it had taken some damage from a hair straightener. _

"_I'm waiting for a friend."_

_She quirked her eyebrows upward in what she thought was an attractive way, and said, "Really? If I was her then I wouldn't leave you alone for a heartbeat."_

"_Who said anything about me meeting a girl?" Neal said, trying to deflect. He really did not want to talk with Caroline right now. She wasn't his favorite person in the world…she seemed too fake, too expensive to be real._

_Before Caroline could speak however, the kid from before, the one with the menacing glare, interrupted. He said, "The kids got a point Carol. Give us a moment, would ya?" _

_Caroline gave the boy a glare, but left without a word. She walked briskly over to where her friends were and they instantly started talking animatedly. Neal watched her leave and then turned to face the boy with the dark blue jean jacket. _

_Neal watched him warily as the kid spoke. He said, "You know Nick, it'd be better for you here if you actually talked to the people around you. Maybe then you'd get some action with the ladies." He gestured to where Caroline and her friends sat with a flourish of his hand. _

"_I don't recall ever telling you what I want with my life." Neal said as he crossed his arms across his chest. The kid had to be a sophomore or a junior at best, because Neal didn't recognize him at the slightest. _

"_You're right. I have no reason to interfere with your life. But apparently your Uncle has reason to interfere with mine."_

_Neal gave the kid a confused look and said, "What are you talking about?"_

_The kid laughed and looked at his cronies, who stood at his side. They chuckled as well. He snickered and said, "Well would you look at that? He doesn't know." He turned his glare on Neal and continued, "If I was you, and I'm glad that I'm not by the way, I'd watch out. You don't know whose watching."_

_Then all of a sudden, Neal's English teacher, Mr. Buchanan, appeared out of nowhere. He must have sensed that something was going on because he had a concerned look in his eyes. He was still wearing his sweater-vest, but he had pulled on a Swede jacket. He said, "What are you two boys up to?"_

_The kid looked over him, as if he was wondering whether or not he should give him a hard time or not. A few seconds pass before he makes up his mind. He put his hand on Neal's shoulder and said, "I'll catch you around Nick." _

_And with that, the menacing kid and his group of hooligans left. Buchanan watched them leave with a worried frown on his face. He turned to face Neal and he said, "Do I want to know what you were doing with Jacob McAdams?"_

_Neal just shrugged and said, "I have never seen him before in my life…Honest."_

_Buchanan let out a breathy sigh and said, "I believe you Nick… I just don't believe him."_

_The air suddenly became quite cold and tense, all sounds forgotten as the two continued to talk. Neal took no notice of the people around him, he had other things on his mind to worry about._

"_What do you mean?" Neal asked, his hands now in his pockets. It felt like Buchanan was hiding something from him, like he was holding something back. Something important._

_Buchanan was silent for a moment before he answered. He was thinking hard about his answer. Soon though, he said, "Jacob isn't the type of kid to warm up to someone fast. He's the type of kid who would shoot first and ask questions later, if you don't mind the pun."_

_Neal nodded understandingly. He said, "You think what he said was a threat?"_

"_The thought had crossed my mind." He said with an unknown expression looming in his green eyes. Neal couldn't decipher the expression, but it looked dark and filled with despair. _

"_What do you think I should do?"_

"_Just be careful okay? I wouldn't want anything to keep you from turning in that Romeo and Juliet essay." Buchanan said with a crooked smile on his face. He knew how to lighten things up in a time of darkness. The man always knew how to make even the most boring subjects fun to learn. It was one of the things that made him one of Neal's favorite teachers._

_He put a hand on Neal's shoulder and patted it gently. And with that, Mr. Buchanan left. The man had a mysterious air about him, but Neal knew he was a good man at heart. Once he left, Neal took the opportunity to once again look out into the field. He watched as the players threw the ball and ran across the field._

_Once half of the game was over, Neal decided to take a walk. He walked with the crowd that was heading towards the concession stand, until they reached the stairs that lead to the undercarriage of the bleachers. Neal wanted to go somewhere where the flow of the crowd wouldn't be. He had grown tired of the game and wanted a change of scenery. _

_The undercarriage was famous around town as the make-out scene and more infamous as where all of the fights took place. Neal walked past the couples who were pressed up against the poles, making out passionately. (Caroline and one of her prettier friends were among them, most likely making out with the upperclassmen.) He was just about to turn into the pathway where the rest of the students where when he heard someone call out, "Nick!"_

_He turned, half a smile on his face. Emmy ran up to him, panting and out of breath. She must have run here from her house, which was quite a ways away from the field. "I thought you weren't going to show." He said as she caught her breath. _

_She looked up, a tired look in her eyes. She smiled slightly and said, "I had to wait till the house was cleared… you know how it is."_

_Neal nodded understandingly and he said, "Do you want to get a snack or something? My treat."_

_The concession stand held various goodies for the students to eat, candy and sodas mostly, but it was worth it. Especially on the colder nights of the football season, when hot chocolate was available._

_Before Emmy could answer though, Jacob McAdams appeared once more. He said, "I told you to watch out Nicky-boy. And the first thing you do is walk right into the lion's den… Not very smart, are you?"_

_Emmy looked between the two boys, clearly confused about the situation she had missed. Neal gave her a look that said, '_I'll explain later.' _And said nothing to Jacob. The passionate couples had disappeared from sight, as if they knew that he was coming. Neal found it hard to believe that they knew because just how were you supposed to know when you're eyes are shut tight, kissing fervently?_

_Jacob walked towards them at a leisurely pace, a smirk on his face. His dark eyes were glowing with what seemed like amusement and anger, and his dirty blonde hair blew in the wind. He glanced over at Emmy, looking at her like she was a piece of meat. Emmy glared at him in return, just finally realizing who this guy was. He turned his gaze over to Neal and said, "I can see why you turned down Carol over there Nick; this one sure is a beauty."_

_Neal kept his cool and said, "Leave her out of this Jacob… She's just a friend." He didn't want Jacob coming after Emmy. She had been through way too much to deserve this from an arrogant son of a bitch jock. _

"_Oh but then that would take all of the fun out everything I have planned for you Nick." Jacob said with mock disappointment and a fake frown on his face. Neal took a step forward, making Emmy shift behind him. _

_Suddenly an arm appeared out of the shadows of the bleachers and grabbed Emmy with force. She was pulled back, away from Neal's grasp. One of Jacob's cronies, -Shane was his name- stepped out with a smirk on his face. She was pulled into his arms and a shriek escaped her lips. Her shriek went unheard as the band began to play._

_The High School Band always performed during the home games at half time. This year they were playing numerous songs from video games, like an instrumental version of Simple and Clean from Kingdom Hearts. _

"_What do you want with me Jacob?"_

"_What do I want?" He said, as if he was sure that Neal knew what had happened. He continued, "I want you to pay for what you did to my family."_

_Shane tightened his grip on Emmy, making her gasp and stutter in pain. Neal glared at Jacob and said, "I didn't do anything to your family Jacob. Let Emmy go and we can talk about this."_

_A look of outrage appeared on his face, the menacing smirk vanished from sight. He said, "You want to talk this over like adults? I'll show you something you can talk about. " _

_Jacob punched Neal squarely in the jaw. Emmy cried out his name as he slowly began to stagger to the side. Jacob shook out his hand and once again formed a fist. He said, "You like that Nick? There's more where that came from, just you wait."_

_Neal stood up, a hand on his jaw. He was rubbing where Jacob had punched him. He said, "Why are you doing this Jacob?"_

"_It's payback for what you did to my family… For what your Uncle did to my father."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_Do I have to spell it out for you Nick? Are you that dumb? Your son of a bitch Uncle is the reason why my dad is rotting in prison." Jacob said, the menacing glare back in his eyes. He wanted revenge, plain and simple._

_Neal's eyes widened with shock and he inhaled sharply. He knew that Roy had been disappearing more often these days, especially with men that Neal didn't recognize… but he never knew that he was making deals with these men. If one of the guys that Roy made a deal with was in jail… then things were about to get ugly. _

_Suddenly a round of applause was heard throughout the stands; apparently the half time show was over. Crowds of people were heard, talking and walking their way back to the stands. People were going to notice what had happened. Jacob seemed to realize this, as he gestured to Shane to let Emmy go. He did and she instantly ran to where Neal was and hugged him._

_Jacob and Shane began walking away and into the crowd. Suddenly though, Jacob turned around. He said, "You better find a new place to live Nicky-boy… because your life is about to go to hell."_

_Emmy quickly gave them both the finger as they disappeared into the crowd. She let go of Neal and brushed her hand over his newly bruised jaw. He winced slightly and she retracted her hand quickly. She said softly, "What a bunch of bastards…"_

_Neal chuckled and said, "I've dealt with worse before..."_

"_What do you think he meant by finding a new place to live?" Emmy asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She chewed on the inside of her lip, her curiosity piqued. She knew of Jacob McAdams but had never actually seen him up close and personal like she did tonight._

_Neal shrugged, as if he was wondering if he wanted to know or not. Suddenly though, it came to him. Jacob's remarks about finding a new place to live…and about how his life is about to go to hell… '_God damn it!'_Neal cursed inwardly and took off running, not caring who he bumped into._

_Emmy called out his name and tried to follow, but was soon trapped within the crowd that loomed in the entrance of the field. Neal had taken off somewhere, and she knew that it couldn't be good._

_Neal ran as fast as he could without stopping. He had to get back to his house, and soon. If what Jacob said was right, then his house was about to go up in flames. _

_After what seemed like hours of mindless running, Neal finally made it to his house. Luckily, it looked like he had made it before anyone could set it aflame. He raced into the house, not caring if he marched into something important. He instantly headed towards his room, intent on packing as many things he could into one bag. Roy was nowhere in sight, so Neal left every single item of Roy's untouched. He only cared about getting his things safe and not Roy's._

_He walked to the bookcase, fingered each and every spin of the books that lay untouched in the shelves. When he reached the last of the books however, someone came bursting out of his closet and hit Neal over the head with something hard. Neal crumbled to the floor, shocked. _

"_I never actually thought that this would work…" A vaguely familiar voice said as Neal tried to gather his jumbled thoughts. He felt like he was on a never-ending rollercoaster because of the nausea and the vertigo he was feeling. He felt something nudge his shoulders, probably the person's foot, but did nothing about it. The man chuckled and stepped over Neal and out into the hallway. Neal tried to grab the person's pants as they were leaving, but he couldn't reach. _

_The man walked away, still chuckling slightly. His chuckling was the last thing Neal heard before his world went dark._

_When he came to, there was smoke wafting throughout his room and in the hallway. He began coughing in hard and painful bursts. He grasped for something, anything that would help him stand. He held onto the bookcase and used it to maneuver himself upwards into a sitting position. Neal's head was still reeling from the blow he had got, but he knew that he had to get out of his house quickly. _

_Out of the corner of his eye he saw a leather-bound sketchbook, the one he had used to draw Emmy all those days in the summer, and he grabbed it. It was getting hard to breathe, so Neal lowered himself onto the floor, where the smoke had yet to reach and began to crawl out into the hallway. He tried not to breathe the black smoke in, but it was hard not to. _

_He made it about halfway before he realized that the fire would soon reach where he was. The heat was unbearable, but Neal managed to carry on. In his haste, Neal had forgotten to close the back door, so that is where he headed. The smoke was no doubt leaving the house in any way it could, through open windows and the open doors. _

_He heard sirens coming closer and Neal tried to call out. His cry of help went unheard as the sirens wailed on. He began coughing again, more vicious than the last. Finally after what seemed like twenty minutes, men in full fire-fighter gear came rushing in. It was getting harder and harder to breathe and it seemed like a god-send that the fire-fighters saw him. He was lying on the kitchen floor, right next to the fridge. The smoke had gotten worse; it seemed like it had somehow gotten thicker and blacker._

_He was half-conscious when the fire-fighters carried him out of the burning building. He held the somewhat singed sketchbook in his hands; he was holding it like it was the only thing that was keeping him here. Neal was handed off into what he assumed to be a paramedic's arms and then onto a gurney of an awaiting ambulance. An oxygen mask was placed on his face, and Neal greedily took in the pure oxygen. A pen light was shined in Neal's eyes by the male paramedic, whose blue green eyes remind him of Emmy's. _

"_Can you tell me your name?" The male paramedic asked when he was done with the pen light. He had salt and pepper looking hair, as if someone had sprinkled the two spices on it overnight throughout the man's life._

_Neal took off the oxygen mask to reply. "Nick…" He coughed, a wet sound that racked through his body. He felt tears pool in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. _

"_Okay Nick, we're going to take you to the hospital, is that alright with you?"_

_Neal nodded and let the paramedic push the oxygen mask back on his face. He watched as the medic and his partner push the gurney into the ambulance. Out of the corner of Neal's eye, he sees Jacob McAdams with a grin as big as the moon on his face. _

* * *

><p><strong>(Later that night…)<strong>

_Neal lie in the hospital bed, trying and failing to get some sleep. The doctors had decided to keep him overnight, for the risk of delayed pulmonary edema or something like that. Roy was still missing, both the police and the doctors were trying to reach his cell phone which was unfortunately off. Neal is somewhat worried because he doesn't know if Roy is just laying low or if Jacob had gotten to him already. _

_A knock on the side of his door pulled Neal out of his thoughts. The sight of who was at his door was surprising. It was Mr. Buchanan. He had a soft and concerned smile on his face. He said, "Aren't you supposed to be resting Nick?"_

_Neal gave him a lopsided grin and said, "I could ask you the same question Mr. Buchanan."_

"_Touché… How are you feeling?" He said as he sat down on the chair that was next to Neal's bed._

"_Better I guess… but it's not every day your house gets burned down." Neal saw no reason why he should lie to the man. What good would it do anyways? _

"_True…" Buchanan said. Neal still felt like the man was holding something back, but since he had no idea what, he didn't ask. It seemed more than odd for him to ask him questions about things that no one was supposed to know. Like how he knew that the men at his house were the cause of his distractions._

_A few minutes of silence passed before Buchanan spoke. He said, "I talked to Emmy Nick… She told me what happened underneath the bleachers." Neal blanched visibly at Buchanan's comment but said nothing. He continued, "Why did you go back to your house instead of calling me? Or the cops for that matter?" _

_He had both concern and worry in his eyes as Neal spoke. He had a serious look on his face when he said, "And say what? That this punk from Peabody was going to torch my home?" When Buchanan didn't reply, Neal continued to speak. "I thought that if I was fast enough I would be able to save a few things before he got there."_

"_Was anything there really worth saving?" Buchanan asked, his hands now in his lap. They had been on the bed, fingering with a few stray bits of the top sheet._

_Neal smiled at the irony of Buchanan's question. Technically there had been about 100,000 dollars worth of paintings in Roy's wall safe that were definitely worth saving. But Neal didn't have the time to crack the safe that held them, so he went for the next best thing, his sketchbook. He glanced over at the bedside table, which held the sketchbook Neal had risked his life for. _

_He grabbed the book and took it out of the plastic bag that had been covering it. He handed it to Buchanan, who immediately opened it up. He gasped softly, as if he wasn't expecting this much talent from a teenager. "Wow… Nick, these are incredible." He gushed._

_Neal shrugged and said, "It's not my best work but I thought it was worth saving… For memory sake you know."_

_Buchanan nodded understandingly and looked back at the drawings, flipping through each and every page. He asked, "Does Emmy know?"_

_Neal's smile fell from his face and he clenched his fist that held the top sheet. He knew that Buchanan was asking about the drawings, but he couldn't help but feel guilty. There was so much that Emmy didn't know about him, and yet she still cared about him. She cared more about him than Roy did. He wanted to tell her the truth, to tell her about everything, but he just couldn't. He felt that maybe she wouldn't like him as much if she knew the truth._

_When Buchanan looked up again, Neal's smile was back in place. He shook his head and said, "About the drawings? No, I think she would kill me if she found out."_

_A yawn escaped his lips and Buchanan smiled in what seemed like relief. He said, "Get some rest Nick. I'll be here when you wake up."_

_Knowing that Buchanan was going to be there when he woke was reassuring. Neal could barely keep his eyes open and soon succumbed to sleep. It was one of the best nights of sleep he ever got._

WCWCWCWCWC

Seeing Neal hooked up to numerous machines, the ventilator included, was a bit frightening for Peter. He could barely see Neal under all of the machines, and the glimpse that he had of his consultant turned friend was so unlike the man he came to care about. Neal looked unnaturally young and vulnerable.

It made Peter feel even guiltier about not finding him in time. Elizabeth had noticed right away and tried to reassure him that none of it was his fault. It helped, but not by much. She was currently sleeping on the couch that was next to Neal's bed. Peter tried and failed to get some much needed sleep, so he was pacing back and forth, occasionally stopping to run a hand through his hair.

He had contacted both Mozzie and June, telling them both that Neal was okay and now in the hospital. They had yet to respond to the messages Peter left, but Peter assumed it was because they were fast asleep in their respective houses (Or storage room in Mozzie's case.).

A buzzing noise was heard from his left jacket pocket and Peter scrambled to get it in time. It was Hughes. Peter quickly accepted the call and headed out in the hallway, as to not wake Elizabeth.

Hughes was the one who spoke first. He said, "Barrigan told me what happened Peter, how's Caffrey doing?"

"They have him on a ventilator for now, but he should be okay soon."

"That's good… Look Peter, I have some bad news to give you." Was that a relieved tone Peter thought he heard in Hughes' voice? Or was he just imagining things due to lack of sleep?

"What is it?"

"The higher ups believe that Caffrey is at risk working for us. They think that because of what happened, more people like Aldo will take advantage of Caffrey's relationship with the Bureau, using it to their gain." Hughes paused, trying to gauge Peter's reaction. He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but it was either this late night call or having to sort out a nasty situation where Peter would most likely throw a fit because he woke up to a handcuffed Caffrey.

Silence wafted through the phone. Peter was feeling a number of things, all of them not good. He felt angry, worried, guilty… More angry than anything else really. Sometimes Peter really wanted to shove rubber chickens down the higher ups throats, because damn it, they were really starting to piss him off.

Hughes continued. "They're sending him back to prison Peter. I've tried to persuade them otherwise, but they won't budge. I'm sorry…"

Peter let the phone drop from his hands. It landed on the floor with a thud that echoed throughout the hallway. Or maybe that was just because everything at night sounded louder than it normally was. The phone landed closed, and Peter kicked it with frustration and anger. He couldn't believe it. After everything Neal risked for them, after everything he did to help them, and this is the way they repaid him? With more prison time?

Peter just could not believe it.


	12. Notice!

A/N: I know another author note… but this time I actually have something to say. I, unfortunately, have decided to put this story on hiatus. I have this feeling in the back of my mind and well... Let me tell you, it's not a good feeling. It's a feeling I associate with Spanish class. Which I dread. A lot. Whenever I sit down and write parts of the next chapter, I feel as though it's a chore. As if I'm being forced to write something I don't want to.

Obviously I'm not being forced to write this, it's merely the reviews from you lovely readers that make me feel bad by not updating. If I get my "groove" back, I will definitely write more to it. And hopefully finish it. But as of right now, I do not want to write more of it. I know you guys were looking for answers to all of your questions, and you will get them… I think. (I feel like a one trick pony because whenever you guys ask for an answer that's all I say. -_-)

Yours truly,

Sherlock


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